Falling into Darkness
by Justiec
Summary: He was cold, ruthless; she was afraid of him, and he couldn't care less about her. But upon discovering that she has a power that may rival his own, he cannot let her go free. Roxas thought his soul was forever lost in darkness, but her light would lead him to it. Roxas x Naminé
1. Him

**A/N: I've always wanted to write a KH fic. I've read so many wonderful ones over the years, and finally, I decided to do it! I have a lot of ideas in mind for this story, so it'll be a decent length. Here we go! **

_**Chapter 1: Him. **_

Soft, blue-painted walls. Framed pictures of friends on the desk. Paintings, drawings, scattered on the carpet. The sunlight streaming through the youth's window seemed to urge Naminé out of bed, but the gentle caress of morning light could not stir the dreaming girl.

"_Only you can help these people," the voice whispered to her. It seemed to come from all directions. She floated horizontally, only seeing white around her – white nothingness. If her body didn't feel so relaxed, she would feel more concerned; however, a pleasant fog curtained over her mind and body._

"_What do you mean?" she asked, slightly befuddled. _

"_They need your help," the voice became more urgent. Naminé's eyebrows scrunched together as she stared up at white. White clouds… Pretty. Beautiful white clouds. She felt a raindrop and flinched. _

"_What people?" Naminé pressed. She sighed, as another raindrop landed on her cheek. This time she did not flinch. _

_The voice remained silent for a little while. "You know which people." It seemed to come from below her this time, echoing throughout the… room? She had no idea where she was. She just knew that she felt nice and could stay this way forever… _

"_No, I don't." Naminé stared up. Another raindrop on her cheek. She lifted her fingers to her face, her eyes. She blinked and another droplet rolled down her temple, soaking into her hairline. It wasn't raining… she was crying. But why? She didn't feel sad. _

"_Yes, you do. You see them everyday," the voice faded out towards the end, leaving Naminé to enjoy the silence and blankness of her surroundings. She blinked, and another raindrop trickled down her temple…_

Naminé lazily yawned and sat up in her bed, rubbing at her eyes. She rarely woke up before her alarm clock and was surprised at how rested she felt considering she'd stayed up so late. She sighed contentedly, glancing at her alarm clock.

Her eyes met no numbers. _Oh no_, she mentally groaned. _Not again._ Her eyes followed the cord to the electrical input, finding the clock unplugged.

"Ahh!" she buried her head in her hands for a second before stumbling out of bed. Recently, she'd picked up a habit of unplugging her alarm when it beeped, too disoriented in the morning to remember how to properly turn it off.

She ran to her closet and rushed through her morning routine. She bumped into her older brother in the hallway, who seemed entertained at her disheveled look.

"Late again?" Cloud snickered.

"Shut up," she growled, kicking past him and zooming out the door.

She walked briskly to school, her backpack hanging off one shoulder. The dream – she'd had it again. Why? What did it mean, if anything at all? It wasn't unpleasant, and she'd take the dream over the nightmares she used to have. She only wished to discover the meaning behind it. She dismissed her thoughts as she approached her classroom door, mentally preparing herself for the school day and she entered.

It wasn't long before she found her best friend in the hallways.

"Hello!" Naminé playfully swatted her friend's hair, turning to open her locker as well.

"Not the hair! I took extra long on it this morning," Kairi exclaimed, making a face.

"It looks fine," Naminé drew out her words, "Besides; you have every guy in this school drooling over you already." She pointedly nodded towards a few guys down the hallway staring their directions.

"That's _you_ they're looking at. You practically roll out of bed and look like a model." Kairi continued putting on make-up in a mirror attached to the inside of her locker.

Model? Not so much. Naminé didn't consider herself bad-looking, but she felt plain. Dull blue eyes and blonde hair that wouldn't curl no matter how long the hot iron stayed pressed in her tresses. Not only that, but she was 5'2 at most - didn't exactly stand out in the crowd.

The bell soon rang, and students scattered accordingly. She and Kairi walked towards their class, chatting casually.

"Back to school dance. Tonight. You're going." Kairi grinned excitedly.

Naminé moaned. "Only for a little bit. You know how I hate those."

"It'll be fun! Junior year, we need to make the most of it! Besides, what else do you have to do? School just started a few weeks ago, you can't have that much homework yet."

It was true. She didn't have a heavy workload, and if she stayed home all night she'd probably end up drawing some corny building outside her window while listening to music.

"Fine," Naminé agreed, sensing that she'd regret it – but who knew? A lot had changed in the past year, and maybe she'd enjoy this one.

The girls turned a corner in the hallway and Naminé felt her body slam into something hard. Air left her lungs as she let out a small gasp. Her books slammed onto the floor as she stumbled. She balanced herself and looked up.

Into the eyes of Roxas Hikari, one of the most feared outcasts in school. He stared down at her, appearing irritated. Naminé dumbly remained in her spot, frozen in the awkward position that had been necessary to catch herself: arms thrown out in front of her, her stance slightly wider. Her books remained scattered before her. Her eyes transfixed on Roxas's cold, deep blue ones.

"Naminé…" Kairi whispered to her worriedly, tugging on her sleeve. Naminé continued to stare, as if in some sort of trance. Her lips parted delicately to say something, but no words came to mind. She couldn't move. She noticed that the expression on Roxas's face changed from irritation to perplexity and back to aggravation.

"You're in my way," his hard tone reached her ears. His dark demeanor made Naminé feel fear and something else – something she couldn't quite name.

"S-sorry," Naminé apologized, forcing herself to breathe again. She moved slightly to the right and bent down to gather her books, her face tingling with warmth. She sensed him walk around her and she let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. She felt her heart start back up again.

Kairi quickly dropped and helped Naminé gather her things. "Are you crazy! What were you trying to do, stare him down?" she whispered violently.

Naminé still struggled to gather herself. "No, no! I just… didn't know what to say." Naminé tried to explain and stood up. The two began trotting down the halls again.

"Everyone was watching, you know," Kairi pointed out.

Naminé groaned. She thought that the deafening silence during the incident took place only in her mind. "It was an accident."

"You probably picked the worst person to run into. I wouldn't be surprised if he or his friends tried pulling some stunt on you now." The two shuffled into their class and sat down.

Naminé rolled her eyes. "They're not _that_ intimidating." Okay, it was a slight lie. Naminé felt tingles of fear in her spine when she'd looked into Roxas's uncaring blue eyes.

Kairi shrugged. "Well, you're probably the only one who thinks so."

Naminé mentally shrugged off the event and tried to pay attention in class; however, remnants of the feelings she had while frozen in place remained. Fear. Wonder. Exhilaration. And something else, something other-worldly that scratched at her mind.

Lunchtime soon arrived and the girls made their way to the cafeteria, taking their regular seats with their group of friends.

"Heard that you bumped into Hikari today," Tidus casually mentioned, and Selphie gasped. Her eyes craved verification of this as they landed on Naminé.

Naminé groaned and scrunched her eyebrows. News traveled fast, and apparently the school had nothing better to talk about.

"I heard you punched him in the face," Olette chimed in energetically, chomping on a french fry.

Naminé buried her head in her hands and Kairi snickered. "Told you it was a big deal," Kairi stated in a matter-of-fact tone.

"I ran into him in the hall, that's all," Naminé explained to her friends.

"What did you say?" Selphie asked excitedly. The table waited attentively for an answer.

Kairi beat Naminé to it. "Oh God, you should have seen her. She stared at him like this," Kairi paused to cheaply mimic Naminé's expression, "and didn't say a word."

Naminé felt a blush grace her features again as she heard Kairi describe her actions. Or lack thereof.

"Have fun dealing with that mess," Hayner sarcastically advised, mouth full of food.

Naminé picked at her food, shrugging. "What's the big deal? It was just an accident. Besides, I said sorry."

"It's not a big deal, but… you know Roxas's crowd is one to stay away from," Tidus said, and Selphie nodded vigorously.

As of on cue, Naminé watched Roxas saunter into the cafeteria with Axel and Larxene. Naminé's eyes followed them as they took their seats at a table with their other friends. The senior group seemed to own the school without even trying. It was especially strange, because most of them were transfers – they hadn't grown up in Destiny Islands, yet they were such powerful forces.

"Yeah," Hayner agreed, "I heard their involved in all types of gang stuff. Like drugs… and murder." Scandal and excitement lit up his eyes.

"Yeah, right," Naminé responded. She knew Roxas was bad news, and his friends seemed the same – if not worse – but murder? Not a chance. Destiny Islands was a safe place, after all. Naminé never heard of any murders.

"It's not like he's ever at school, anyways. I'm sure I'll be fine," Naminé assured, more for her own benefit than theirs. She changed the subject. "Are you guys excited for the dance?"

**xx**

The led of her pencil broke on the paper with a _crack_ – ruining the smooth line she drew – at the sound of a honk blaring from her driveway.

"I'm coming!" she yelled out her window at Kairi before rushing downstairs.

"Call me if you need anything!" Cloud shouted out the door as Naminé jumped the car. She waved over her shoulder at him.

"Let's do this," Kairi grinned and put the car in reverse. Excitement danced in her eyes.

Once at the dance in the student center, Kairi dragged Naminé onto the dance floor. They danced, chatted, and bounced from social group to social group before settling with their better friends.

Hayner, Selphie, Tidus, Olette, and Wakka excitedly engaged in conversation with them. The group found things to do, enjoying themselves – however, Naminé could not get into it. Something knocked at the back of her mind, refusing to leave her alone no matter how much she forced it away.

Naminé rubbed at her temples, feeling a headache come on. "Kairi," she tugged on the redhead's sleeve. "I think I'm going to head home. I don't feel very good."

Kairi rolled her eyes. "Come on, Naminé! At least wait 'til the after-party!" she threw up her hands excitedly.

"I'm sorry, I'm just not in the mood. I promise I'll make it up to you?"

Kairi's disappointment leaked through her features, but she nodded. "Okay then… how are you getting home?"

"I can walk!" Despite not feeling good, Naminé didn't want to ruin her friend's night as well. Kairi looked skeptical. "It's only a ten minute walk, Kai. I do it every day."

"Alright," Kairi agreed reluctantly, narrowing her eyes. "Give Cloud a call. He'd probably pick you up."

"Mhm, I will. You guys have fun!" she yelled to the rest of the group before heading out.

Once off campus and out in fresh air, the pounding in her head began to subside. She let out a sigh of relief and walked towards the beach, which was not too far from school. She needed to clear her head. It was only 10:30pm, and the dance didn't end until midnight. She had a few hours before Cloud started wondering where she was.

Once at the beach, she plopped down in the welcoming sand and buried her toes in it. _So beautiful…_ she thought. The waves licked at the shore as they came in and out.

_The sea refused to stop kissing the shoreline, no matter how many times it's turned away. _Where had she heard that? Naminé laid back and closed her eyes, feeling the breeze rustle through her bangs and listening to the waves crash.

She didn't know how she'd drifted off, but Naminé awoke to ice cold water rushing her as the tide came in. She squealed before scrambling up and backwards, away from the intruding water.

"No wonder the shoreline doesn't love you. Too cold," she murmured, her clothing drenched. She hugged herself and began pacing up the beach towards the pier, where she would then begin walking home.

After a few minutes of walking, Naminé noticed two figures up ahead. She slowed her gait, before stopping completely. _What..? _She squinted past the darkness. A cloaked, dark figure stood on the sand with another man in front of him, levitating off the ground. Naminé rubbed her eyes. Was she seeing things? She cautiously moved a little closer, partially hidden by a palm tree.

No, the man was lifted off the ground by an invisible force. His mouth was opened in a silent scream, his face angled towards the sky. The hooded man omitted a strong feeling of evil – something that chilled Naminé to the bone more than the actual event occurring before her. The cloaked man had his arm out towards the floating man's chest, his hand angled like a police man signaling a car to stop. A dark purple, swirling ball of energy emerged from the levitating man's chest and came towards the figure's outstretched hand – It was as if he was strangling the man without touching him.

Naminé choked back a scream at the terrifying site before her, but a strangled whimper escaped her lips. Her hands shot up to cover her mouth as she stumbled backwards. _No, no, no, no, no, no._ Had the evil figure heard her? She should call someone – She should call for help at least, or something!

She fumbled for her phone and just as she found it, she received an incoming call. Her hands shook as she tried to silence the ringer, but it was too late: the dark figure's head whipped towards her accusingly.

She froze, feeling as if she'd been punched in the gut. All air left her lungs as blue eyes pierced her soul and left her paralyzed. _Roxas._

_No, _Naminé thought. The man who'd been floating above the ground dropped with a thud as the Roxas withdrew the arm angled towards his chest, still facing her.

_Move! _Naminé ordered herself. She scrambled to straighten back up. As she did, she got a better look at the man crumpled on the floor, drained of energy. She recognized him! Her science teacher appeared lifeless now, his eyes open and his mouth forming an 'O,' as if the pain he'd been experiencing followed him into the afterlife.

"_They're people you see everyday…" _she remembered the voice from her dream. Maybe this was someone she needed to help. But what could she do? She panicked, her chest tight.

"L-leave him alone!" she cried out, trying to appear threatening. She cursed her shaky voice.

Roxas observed her and then began to laugh darkly. He slowly walked towards her and Naminé felt whatever courage she had vanish.

"Don't you think it's a little late to save him?" his smooth voice lashed her ears. Everything about him was cold, a hundred times worse than when she saw him at school. In fact, even his usual cerulean eyes were now a dark blue, shaded over with grey.

Naminé began taking steps back. This would be the end of her. All her 16 years coming to an end like this. She felt her heart rate increase and she struggled to breathe normally.

She suddenly felt her legs give out beneath her as she tripped over her own feet. She fell backwards. He was now standing directly in front of her, and she fearfully peered up at him.

"Get away from me, Roxas!" she yelled, and he put his hand up once again. Time stopped. Everything seemed to freeze. Palm leaves remained bent at unnatural angles, previously whipped by the wind and now left frozen in place. Waves remained in mid-crash. The environment was eerily quiet, and Naminé heard felt her heart pounding.

Her heart… It was beating so slow! Naminé went to lift her arm and found that it felt weighed down, as if it weighed a hundred pounds. "What… what did you do?" She cried out fearfully. She dragged her eyes away from her arm and up to those blue, cold orbs. Her arm continued to move slowly towards her chest.

His gaze pierced her. "How… how are you moving?" he seemed genuinely intrigued. And annoyed. "Hm," he knelt down in front of her and observed.

Her heart rate sped up out of fear, yet it was still unnaturally slow. Time around her had stopped, and she seemed to feel half of the effects of whatever spell he had cast. Her body had slowed down dramatically, as if she was moving in slow motion.

He put his hand on her chest, feeling her heartbeat himself. "What are you?" he murmured quietly.

Her spine tingled at the physical contact. His touch seemed to trigger something. Adrenaline rushed through her body, and her hands shot out in front of her. "Get away!" she shrieked, pushing at his chest. Light bursts from her hands and he flew backwards a couple feet.

Suddenly, Naminé found herself able to move normally again. She scrambled up and began to sprint in the opposite direction, away from the monster. _What is going on? _She struggled to think. _Dance… go back to the dance! Someone will help you there. _

She heard his rough footsteps gaining on her before an arm wrapped around her midsection and immediately forced her to a halt. The air left her body at the impact. He swung her around and threw her over his shoulder. Muttering a string of curses, he did not seem happy as he opened up some type of black hole and walked into it with her kicking and screaming.

**A/N: Review and let me know what you guys think! This isn't my first story, but it's my first story on Fanfiction and I'm stoked. Reviews REALLY inspire me to write, so if you'd be so kind… I'll update soon, I'm already working on chapter 3 but I'm trying to spread out my updates to cushion writer's block… Anyways, I'd love to hear from you. Really **

**-J**


	2. Confinement

**A/N: Here's chapter 2! So I got favorites and follows from the first chapter, so hello readers I'm stoked. I'm going to try and update as regularly as possible, but with school and all, I can't promise much. But I definitely want to finish this story one day and not leave it hanging. So much in mind for it. **

"_Pain is a relatively objective, physical phenomenon. Suffering is our psychological resistance to what happens." _Dan Millman

_**-Chapter 2: Confinement-**_

White. White, again. Was she dreaming? Naminé blinked, and the white dots clouding her vision scattered to reveal a regular room. She cautiously sat up in the bed, unable to recall what brought her here.

"Finally," a bored voice muttered in annoyance. Naminé's head shot in the direction of the sound. A blond female observed her nails nonchalantly, sitting in a chair at a desk. Naminé recognized her: Larxene. Suddenly, the events of last night came rushing back to her.

She shot out of the bed and took a defensive stance. Or tried to. "Don't come near me," Naminé warned.

Larxene remained in the chair and snickered. "As if you could stop me if you tried. Then again, you did give Roxas a run for his money…" She seemed amused.

"Where am I?" Naminé demanded.

"Now don't be short with me. You're really in no position to demand answers," Larxene's smirk faded.

Naminé bit her lip, silent for a moment. "You can't keep me here."

Larxene raised an eyebrow. "And why not?" she humored the younger girl.

"Because… the police will get involved. People will notice I'm missing." It was a lame attempt, but Naminé was at a loss for what to do.

"Right," Larxene responded sarcastically before rising and starting towards the door.

"Wait!"

Larxene half-turned, impatient. "What?"

Naminé hadn't planned what to say next. "You… you can't leave me here."

Larxene snorted and left the room. "Have fun, Naminé."

The closing of the door was a harsh sound on Naminé's ears, and she remained standing in the same spot for a minute or two. '_What do I do?' _Her internal voice even sounded panicky.

As expected, the door was locked. Anxiety shot through her chest. Feeling trapped, she looked around the blue-carpeted room for an escape. A window!

Naminé bolted over to it and looked out. Her hope immediately faded. The drop was at least three stories down; she wouldn't make it. Not only that, but the window wouldn't even budge when she tried to open it.

Dejected and anxious, Naminé plopped down on the white bed and observed the room. A dark blue carpet occupied the floor, and plain white walls surrounded her. There was a desk, chair, bed, and cabinet, but that was it. She laid back and stared at the ceiling, her body tense and alert. She reviewed her options, but nothing new came to mind. After hours of clenched muscles, Naminé's body couldn't help but tire.

She should have listened to Kairi, she thought, and her other friends. She was now splat in the center of Roxas and his crowd – and people were right. There _was _something wrong with them. Her mind mulled over what she had witnessed Roxas do the night before… or whenever that had occurred. How long had she been out?

He had basically killed someone, or that's what seemed to happen. Whatever Roxas did to that man, it had been evil, almost demonic.

'_What if they just leave me here forever?' _She wondered fearfully, drifting into sleep.

_The whiteness surrounded her again. She was not in her room, nor was she in the unfamiliar room where they kept her hostage. She was instead floating in that familiar nothingness again – that pleasant fog that seemed to surround her physically and mentally. _

_She remained there, breathing slowly and evenly. As expected, she heard the voice again. _

"_You're getting closer," it said. It engulfed her, like the white fog. _

_Although relaxed, Naminé did notice that the voice was at least saying something different this time. She'd never "gotten closer." _

"_To what?" Naminé wondered aloud. If she didn't feel so light-headed and warm here, she would be more frustrated with the voice. It was always so vague. _

"_To salvation," the voice answered. _

_Salvation? "I don't need to be saved," Naminé mumbled and closed her eyes. A light wind caressed her face. _

_The voice was quiet for a long time. "Not your salvation, Naminé." _

_Naminé was barely paying attention, but she noticed that the voice used her name: it had never used her name. Naminé didn't bother asking anything else – she was content just lying there, blissfully unaware of everything but the white fog and calming wind. No thoughts crossed her mind for a while. _

"_Hey." A voice registered. Naminé opened her eyes. She'd never head THAT voice here. Her eyes slowly wondered around the atmosphere, but it was the same: white. _

"_Wake up," the male voice sounded irritated, stirring Naminé from her pleasant state. At least the other voice hadn't been so urgent. _

"_I am awake," Naminé mumbled, staring up. The wind had stopped. A black dot formed far above her and grew steadily. It grew bigger and bigger, coming towards Naminé. She panicked, unable to move and only able to watch it. Suddenly, a hand shot out of it and came right for her. She shrieked. _

"Get up!" the voice ordered, and Naminé felt someone roughly grab her arm and yank her out of bed. She blinked, disoriented, and glanced at the offender.

Roxas stared back at her, annoyance written all over his features. "Finally."

Naminé yanked her arm back from him, recalling the horrible and unexplainable things he'd done to that man on the beach. He'd killed him, for all she knew.

"Don't touch me," she warned, her voice wavering. He stared at her.

"You have some questions to answer."

She glared at him, refusing to let fear shut her down. "S-So do you."

Something like amusement flashed behind his eyes for a split second before he became serious again. "Sit down."

She felt trapped again, fighting anxiety. "No. Let me out of this room first."

"I had a feeling this would be difficult…" he muttered to himself. He eyed her. "You're in no position to make requests," he said darkly.

Naminé wondered exactly what he meant by that. She feigned bravery and stood her ground; if anything, she would not go down without a fight.

"I could kill you right here, right now, and nobody would know," he daunted on lazily, darkly.

Naminé had a feeling this was true; however, she needed leverage. "If you wanted to kill me, you would have done it at the beach." She didn't know if this was true, but she did seem to escape certain death back there.

His face twitched in frustration and she knew that she was right. What if he couldn't kill her? She grew hopeful. After all, she had fended him off at the beach with some supernatural force.

"There are things much worse than death," he warned forebodingly, and his aura seemed to change into one much more menacing as his eyes pierced her. Naminé cowered, shrinking back. "If you don't cooperate, I can show you what I mean."

Thoughts raced through her mind. What did he mean? Was she willing to find out? Although she was shaking – the darkness emanating from Roxas seemed to seep into her bones – she refused to let him cow her. After all, at this point she had nothing left but her self-respect.

"Well, you might as well show me. 'Cause I think you're bluffing." She struggled to keep her voice steady and light, as if he didn't affect her. He couldn't hurt her at the beach. She knew this. Or at least, hoped this was true. If Kairi were here, she'd kill her for acting so reckless.

Before Naminé could blink, Roxas slammed her against the wall. One of his hands went to her neck, where he lifted her. Naminé struggled to breathe, clawing at his gloved hands. "Do you think you can bargain with me?" he growled. "I have the power to break you."

Naminé panicked as her struggles remained useless, kicking at him with all her might. She was wrong, she realized. He could do anything to her, and he was. She watched in horror as Roxas brought his hand to her chest. She watched his hand and arm darken into blackness, losing form and solidity, before he reached into her chest.

Naminé screamed.

No pain could compare to this. His hand gripped her heart, icy fingers spreading coldness throughout her body. This, combined with his hand around her neck cutting off her oxygen, was unbearable, excruciating: worse than death, like he promised.

After what felt like centuries – although not even a minute had passed – Roxas drew back from Naminé and she dropped to the floor. She gasped for air, clasping at her chest, nearly delirious from the intense pain that had so suddenly abandoned her body.

Roxas watched her emotionlessly. "Don't ever test me," his voice was dark, unforgiving like the hand that had clenched her heart. A shudder ran through Naminé's body as she struggled to recover and she heard the door slam. What just happened? She broke into tears, feeling like a fool for challenging him in the first place.

If she wasn't afraid of Roxas before, she was now. Whenever she thought she heard someone approach her door, her body stiffened and her jaw clenched. Her theory that he couldn't hurt her? Wrong. Painfully wrong, too.

He couldn't hurt her at the beach. Even though the memory of that event remained a blur – she'd been in this room for a few days, now – she remembered that she somehow protected herself… Well, sort of. Her presence in this place now wasn't much of a testimony to that, but when he had touched her at the beach some unnatural power overtook her and blasted him back.

She glanced down at her hands. _'How did I…?' _Maybe if she could learn how to do that again, she could protect herself – maybe even get out of here!

She missed her family and friends. Even though only a few days had passed, the lack of familiar faces – or any faces at all – sent her reeling. She barely touched the food that was delivered to her room and felt herself falling into depression – like visiting an old friend. She'd been depressed before for other reasons, but it was such a long time ago. She'd forgotten how… _desolate _the feeling was. How all-consuming it was. She just sat in bed, day after day, staring out the window or at her hands. No one came to visit her, and Roxas still hadn't returned to question her. Not that she wanted him to.

Even her dreams had deserted her. Those hazy, pleasant escapes. She never really cared too much about them, but at least before they gave her something to think about. Now, the only thing that registered in her brain was fear, sadness, and even more scary, nothingness.

Today, she wanted to do something different though. She sat up in bed, her legs dangling off the side. She wanted to bring back the power that she had used against Roxas that night at the beach. If she could do that… Well, if she could do that, she had a chance.

She looked down at her hand. _'Where do I start?'_ She clenched her hand into a fist and opened it again, turning it over and examining it. She even threw her hands out in front of her abruptly, the same motion she used against Roxas that night, and immediately felt dumb when nothing occurred.

After a few more physical attempts, she had an idea: maybe if she relived the emotion she felt that night, that power would come again! She quickly racked her mind for how to do this, before settling on meditation. She sat yoga-style on her bed – never having meditated in her life before – and closed her eyes.

She heard the clock on the wall tick.

She heard her breathing.

She heard faint noises on the other side of the window.

At least ten minutes passed. 20 minutes. 30.

Nothing happened.

Frustrated to the point of tears, she picked up the closest thing to her – the lamp on the nightstand – and through it at the wall. It shattered into a million pieces, a few small ones flying back and scratching her face. The room felt eerily quiet after that, besides her now heavy breathing.

"Why can't I do anything!?" she yelled to herself.

Someone else seemed to hear her, too. "_Try again_," a voice whispered to her, coming from all directions. From inside her. The voice – it was the voice from her dreams! Naminé grew excited, finally having gotten some result out of her efforts. She forced herself to calm down, and went back into her previous meditation position.

Deep breathing. '_Calm down,'_ she told herself. After a few minutes, her mind started to wander.

She drifted back to her childhood: when her mom was still alive and when her father was still present in her life. Back to a time when she and Cloud had nothing to worry about. Her thoughts wandered to a specific event – the last Christmas before her dad abandoned them. She was 13. The house smelled like cinnamon candles, and she remembered their dog had ripped open all their presents before they got the chance to. She remembered walking downstairs in the morning into her father's open embrace, one that hadn't turned her away – yet. One that hadn't turned her away even when she started sneaking out, even when she started talking back, even when she started telling him that she didn't love him.

Sadness consumed her. What a lie that was. She didn't think she loved him now, ever since he'd up and left she and Cloud – he could never escape the grief towards the loss of his wife, so he ran from it – but Naminé had loved him. Very much so. She often wondered if she was the reason he left but decided not to look into it too much.

Naminé was no longer interested in meditating or tapping into a power she was starting to lose faith in. What if she had imagined things in the first place? It wasn't working, anyways – it was only making her sad. She opened her eyes.

And saw the entire room from the ceiling's point of view. She was floating. She was floating! Her eyes widened as she looked around her. She had done it! Well, it may have not been the power she wanted, but it was a start. She laughed in glee. _'Yes!'_

"_Focus,"_ the dream voice warned her, sounding distant.

Naminé nodded, not paying too much attention to it, and tried to go forward. She couldn't. Okay, so she couldn't control it yet, but she had gotten somewhere. She looked around the room. Light seemed to radiate throughout it – but where was it coming from? She searched the room for its source before realizing: it came from her!

She was glowing. As she realized this, she unintentionally began floating towards the wall and her body turned sideways. Her thoughts began to jump from idea to idea.

She could float out the window if she could find a way to open it. Then she could escape! But what if she stopped floating and fell? She surely wouldn't survive a fall that high.

As this thought passed, Naminé's new ability vanished. Once floating blissfully, now she crashed into the nightstand below her, landing on her side on the alarm clock there.

"Ah!" she cried out in pain, rolling off of the nightstand. The nightstand fell with her, and the drawers flew out, their contents scattering on and around her.

She sat there, stunned for a few minutes. What had just happened? She rolled up her shirt and looked at her side. A huge bruise was starting to form from where she'd landed.

Suddenly, the door flew open. Naminé froze and looked up, expecting the worst.

And finding it.

Roxas took in the sight before him. "What the hell?" He quickly approached her and she backed away.

He knelt down in front of her. "What happened to your eyes?"

"My eyes?" she squeaked, recovering.

He stared hard at her for a second, as if trying to determine whether or not she was trying to fool him. "As if you don't know." He grabbed her by the arm and yanked her up.

She cried out in surprise. He started dragging her towards the door. "I don't know!" she countered. She dragged her heels in the carpet; fearful of him, where he was taking her, and what would happen to her. Maybe she shouldn't have messed around with those powers.

Yet she couldn't bring herself to regret it. What she had experienced – the light that had come from her – had been unworldly. She wouldn't take it back, even if it meant enduring whatever Roxas had planned.


	3. The Leader

"_Despair is a narcotic. It lulls the mind into indifference." _

- Charlie Chaplin

_**- Chapter 3: The Leader – **_

He dragged her through the hallways, down stairs, and finally into a living room.

Where twelve other people sat around a table.

"_This_ is what I was talking about," Roxas exclaimed, throwing Naminé onto the floor in front of them. She gathered herself and slowly glanced up.

Larxene, Axel, and a few others she'd seen at school stared at her. Others, who she didn't recognize, gave her the same piercing stare. They all wore black coats. She fought the instinct to bolt from the room; she was clearly outnumbered, anyways.

"Interesting," one of the men observed. Larxene snickered, and Axel let out a "phew." Naminé had never felt so self-conscious in her life.

"Well, at least now we know you didn't get your ass kicked by some regular teenage girl," Axel smirked. Roxas shot him a glare.

One of the guys Naminé recognized from school began to approach her. He'd also always been someone she'd avoided in the school hallways. In fact, she'd always avoided Roxas and his whole gang – just like everyone else. Now, here she was in the middle of it.

The man knelt down in front of Naminé, and she recalled his name – Zexion. He gripped her chin and forced her to look at him, staring at her eyes. "Hm," was all he said. He tilted her head to one side and then the other.

Naminé 's stared at him from under heavy lashes. "W-what?" Naminé dared to ask. "What's wrong with my eyes?"

"I find it hard to believe you don't know of the powers you possess, Naminé," a baritone voice registered. She tore her head away from Zexion's grip, still sitting on the floor, and looked in the direction of the voice. Her eyes met with those of an unfamiliar man.

"Xemnas, the girl is half-retarded. She doesn't know what she's capable of," Larxene snickered.

Naminé didn't respond to Larxene's insult. She wanted to leave this place, where no one cared about her; where she'd been trapped for days; where she'd experienced the coldness of the cruelest people she'd ever encountered. She weakly stood up and glanced at Roxas.

He stared back. A few seconds of silence joined the room before Xemnas spoke. "Roxas, take her back to her room. We will discuss what to do with this finding later."

Roxas reached down and gripped her forearm, pulling her upright next to him. They headed out of the room. She felt his eyes on her, but refused to meet them. "You're trembling," he pointed out blankly.

Naminé pulled her arm from his grasp and kept her eyes focused in front of her. Of course she was trembling. She was terrified of those people – most of them strangers – because they carried an aura of destruction, like Roxas. She feared Roxas too, or rather, what he was capable of doing to her; however, at least with him she had a sense of security based on familiarity.

Finally, they reached her room, and she entered obligingly. He followed.

"What do you want?" she asked tiredly.

He closed the door behind him. "Nothing."

She sat down on her bed. "Then why are you here?"

"To keep an eye on you."

She laid down on her stomach and turned her head towards the wall, away from him. "I don't need to be watched," she mumbled.

She heard him sit down in the chair at the desk. Silence filled the air, apart from the ticking of the clock. Although she was exhausted from the day's excursions – from levitating, to falling, and then to being thrown into a room full of heartless strangers – Naminé couldn't fall asleep. His presence in the room suffocated her.

After a few minutes, she turned her head towards him. "Don't you have to go to school?" she asked, frustrated.

"No," was all he said.

Seconds ticked by again. Minutes.

"Why are you so cold?" Naminé didn't know what prompted her to say it, but the words tumbled out of her mouth anyways.

His eyes met hers, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he looked at one of his hands and began to form a dark swirl of nothingness in it. Naminé's eyes widened. That was the power she saw him use at the beach!

She sat up, swallowing her fear of him and the darkness. "How do you do that?"

He stared at her, the dark energy growing in his hand. He remained sitting. "Practice." She was surprised he answered.

She stood up. Roxas seemed to be in a decent mood today – which consisted of him not nearly strangling her – and she tested her limits. She took a few steps towards him, her eyes fixed on the dark ball.

Naminé fell into a trance as she watched the dark energy swirl and grow. She felt her arm move on its own accord, reaching out to touch it. Roxas appeared unconcerned. He didn't stop her.

"That'll hurt, you know," he said carelessly.

Naminé didn't register his voice. She finally touched it – and it disappeared. Vanished into thin air. She came back to her senses and looked down at her palm in wonder.

Roxas froze before turning on her. He stood up, towering over her. "How did you do that?" he demanded harshly, grabbing her shoulders.

His grip was unforgiving. "I-I don't know!" Naminé cried, struggling away from him.

"I don't believe you," he hissed, shoving her back onto the bed. He formed another dark ball in his right hand, approaching her. This time, Naminé was scared of it – and him.

"Here. Do it again," he ordered. Roxas was infuriated.

Naminé scrambled back. "I don't know what I did, I swear! I won't do it again!" she shouted desperately. She would do nearly anything to escape the death grip she'd felt on her heart a few days ago and knew was coming again.

"No, do it again," Roxas ordered. "Destroy it." He brought it closer to her.

"I can't!" she yelped, trying to dodge around him and desperately throwing a punch.

He caught her fist with his free hand. They remained in that stalemate for a moment. Blue eyes met blue. Hers questioned him, searching for any sign of sympathy; his watched her, burned into her soul and seemed to read everything that was there. After this split, eternal second, he forced her hand into the dark energy.

As she made contact, her body numbed over – but not in a pleasant way. Her mind screamed at her to pull her hand back, and she tried: Roxas wouldn't let her. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think. She felt cold and desperate. Her hand was on fire.

Finally, he released her, the anger seeming to leave him. Naminé could move again, and she panted.

"I…" Her lip trembled. "I hate you," she breathed heavily, still sitting on the bed and backed up against the wall.

Her petite frame struggled to recover from the physical shock it had received. But perhaps worse than the physical suffering was knowing that she and Roxas had connected the moment before he'd inflicted such suffering on her. It felt as if he'd peered into the depths of her soul, yet he _still _chose to torture her.

She glared at him tiredly. A flicker of emotion crossed his features, but she couldn't identify it. His cold mask returned promptly. He stared at her, as if he was about to say something, before leaving the room silently.

Naminé collapsed on her bed, no longer having it in her to cry. She was growing accustomed to the mistreatment, apathy growing within her. As numbness filled her, her limbs grew heavy, and her eyelids drooped, before she fell into darkness.

When she awoke, the sun was rising outside her window. A steady stream of yellow filtered in, taking the shape of a square on her wall. Naminé's eyes adjusted to the brightness, and she realized she was not alone.

Roxas sat at the wooden chair at the desk, scribbling something down on a piece of paper. She watched him in silence for a while, not wanting him to know that she was awake; yet on another level, her new-found indifference towards her well-being lingered.

Finally, he glanced at her and realized she was awake. His pen stopped. "About time," he nodded, his voice distant. Always distant.

Naminé rose and looked out the window. It was true: she hated him. But she was exhausted, tired of fighting; sick of her new power (or whatever it was); and most of all, she wanted to go home. In moments like this – desperate, desolate moments, where her heart sank to the bottom of her stomach and her body felt like it was made of led – Naminé wanted to regress in time. She wanted to go back to when she was 13. Since her mother had died and her father had left, her life had been up in the air. Nothing had been right, and this nightmare only added to the anguish.

She felt Roxas watching her for a few minutes. She blinked and spared a resentful, empty glance at him.

"There's food right there…" he mumbled off-handedly, referring to the tray on the nightstand next to her.

Naminé glanced at it apathetically. She hadn't eaten in a while and should have been hungry, but she wasn't. The clock ticked.

"I'm…" he began to say. Naminé made eye contact with him, and he looked away.

He was what? Sorry?

He never finished his sentence.

There was a long period of silence between them, before Roxas finally said quietly, "Xemnas, our leader, wants to see you in his room."

This perked her attention. "Why?" she drew out.

He shrugged and broke eye contact with her. Naminé let out a long breath and looked down tiredly. Her mind, on the other hand, was wary. Roxas was intimidating, but he only truly exploded at her when she tested his limits. She was not as familiar with his other friends – or whoever they were – and apprehension dawned on her. What if Xemnas was worse than Roxas?

Yet, she couldn't do anything about it. She could kick and scream, but she realized that that wasn't getting her anything besides pain. "Are you going to be there?" she asked, fidgeting her hands.

Roxas looked at her again. "No. I have things to do."

Naminé felt her shoulders slump slightly. In a way that others would find disturbing, now that she was faced with a potentially more evil unknown, Roxas was her go-to guy. Along this thought, Cloud came to mind. "Roxas?" she grabbed his attention.

He looked at her, waiting for her to continue.

"Do you think I could call my brother?" She mentally crossed her fingers.

"No," he answered without hesitation. Another disappointment, though she had been expecting it. Besides that, she was too tired to fight with him. She'd try again another time.

"Let's get going. Come on," he urged, turning towards the door. She slowly made her way out of bed, mentally dragging her feet. She did not want to speak to this Xemnas, or whatever. She just wanted to fall asleep forever or get out of here. And she doubted he would help her cause. Unless he killed her. Or set her free. And one of those possibilities was much more likely than the other, she thought dejectedly.

Head bowed, she followed him through the halls, before realizing that she should pay attention to her surroundings – it wouldn't hurt, especially if she ever wanted to get out of this place. The white halls were lined with doors, and the floor was carpeted. It was considerably bland. There was a window at the end of the hallway, and when they reached it, Naminé glanced out. Like the view from her room, the drop was deadly.

They turned into some type of stairwell and headed down. The stairs consisted of carpet as well, with white railing. Their movements echoed lightly.

Anxiety filled the pit of Naminé's stomach. It overtook her animosity towards Roxas, and despite her aversion to talking to him, she asked, "He just wants to talk, right? He's not going to do anything crazy, right?" She cursed the nerves in her voice.

Roxas turned to look at her. "Only if you refuse to cooperate. Which you seem to enjoy doing," he muttered, obviously annoyed by some of her tendencies.

This group of people obviously didn't understand the concept of free will, Naminé thought bitterly. She held her tongue. Maybe she needed to focus on getting someone on her side. Not only that, but fighting Roxas usually ended badly, and it was exhausting.

They neared a door at the end of a hallway downstairs. The door was black, unlike all the other ones she'd seen. She cringed. As if that didn't promise impending doom…

Roxas knocked. Each contact his knuckles made on the door made Naminé flinch.

After a moment, the door opened. The dark-skinned man Naminé had seen earlier peered down at her before he glanced at Roxas. "Thank you, Number Thirteen," he dismissed.

Naminé watched Roxas's back as he retreated down the hallway. She wanted to call out for him to wait, but had no reason to. She doubted he would, anyways.

"Come in, Naminé," the man named Xemnas urged, widening the door and stepping to the side.

Naminé's body refused to cooperate for a moment, as she stared in apprehension to the inside of his room. "Oh, I won't bite," Xemnas exasperated. Naminé forced herself to move forward, walking cautiously into his room. The door behind her closed with a resounding _click_.

She took in her surroundings. The walls of this room were white, but unlike the room she was normally kept in, the carpet was a starch black. It was bigger – much bigger – and the furniture was more eloquent. A black curtain covered a wide window, and the only light in the room came from lamps.

Naminé jumped when a hand was placed on her shoulder. She turned her head sharply to see Xemnas's amused eyes watching her. "Take a seat. I just want to have a little chat with you. Maybe we can even do a little negotiating?" he prompted slyly, and it was clear that he was the one in control.

Naminé gulped, unable to shake her nerves, before taking a seat at a small table in the room. Xemnas took a seat across from her. If she thought Roxas had a bad aura, Xemnas's was twice as dark. It was worse that his words came out lightly, almost playfully; yet they all had a double meaning. His speech was two-faced, and his vibe was insidious.

"So, I'm sure you've already come to the conclusion that we – Organization XIII, we like to call ourselves – are not normal… that we have, let's say, certain powers. Surely, you've noticed?" he didn't give her a chance to respond.

Naminé wasn't sure she would have had the composure to answer, anyways. He continued, his eyes boring into her. Unblinking.

"Well, Naminé, _we've _come to a conclusion too. We have discovered that you have powers unlike ours – that seem to counter ours – and… well, tell me," he said, reaching his arm out on the table, "and tell me honestly. Do you – did you, I mean, because of course you must know now – did you know that you had this… gift?" his voice lowered, as if he was discussing a secret.

Naminé found herself leaning in to hear despite her wariness towards him. She backed up when she noticed how close she was to him. "Um…" she trailed off dumbly. "No."

Xemnas didn't skip a beat. "That's probably for the better, then," he said, more to himself. "However, if I find that you're not being truthful to me, I will punish you. And let me warn, I am not nearly as forgiving as Roxas." His voice darkened, and Naminé felt her hairs stand on their ends.

She swallowed. "I-I really didn't know about… about – well, whatever's going on with me…" she trailed off.

"I believe you. For now, at least. I thought this to be the case." He thought for a moment. "And I have decided that you can help our cause. For that reason, we will not destroy you."

Naminé's eyes widened at his bluntness. It was as if they were planning to do that in the first place, but had had a change of plans. Some of the anxiety that had ebbed away during their conversation returned to form a cold, hard pit in her stomach.

Xemnas continued as if he did not notice her physiological reaction to his words, gazing into her eyes. "I have great plans for you, Naminé. We are going to hone your talents so that you can help us."

He remained silent after that, waiting for a reply. Naminé couldn't even process the information this quickly. Hone her talents? Help them? "Help… Help you what?" she asked slowly.

"Find our hearts, of course," he said simply. Naminé stared at him, not understanding. He noticed this. "I suppose all things will be explained in due time, my dear." He stood up from his chair, and Naminé found herself shuffling to get up as well. "As of now, cooperate with us; and nothing terrible will happen to you. How does that sound?" he asked, as if he were giving her a good deal.

"W-what do you want me to do?" she asked. She had no idea how to "hone her talents" – she had tried before, and it hadn't exactly gone to plan. What if she couldn't help them even if she tried?

"Oh, I'll have the other Organization members show you what to do. You need not worry. All you need to do is follow direction, and maybe you'll make it out of this ordeal alive. Maybe we all will…" he trailed off thoughtfully.

What did that mean? Before she dared to ask, he began ushering her towards the door. "Well, I enjoyed speaking with you Naminé – such a pleasant girl, and you seem to know what's best for you." He spoke as if he were forcing her to agree with helping them. As if his compliment was really a threat.

"Do you know how to get back to your room? Oh, never mind. I'll just take you myself, I suppose. After all, don't want you wandering the castle!" They began walking down the hall. "There are much worse things in this building than me!" He laughed at his own joke. "Well, actually, that's not true, but it's close enough to the truth."

She noticed he had a tendency to ramble, as if he were having a conversation with himself. It made her feel insignificant, like a pawn – and she had a feeling that that was what she was about to become: a piece in a board game.

**A/N: I'm doing rather well with this story… As in, it's flowing easily still and I haven't encountered writer's block. Please review and let me know what you think! I know you're reading this… :) **


	4. Training

"_Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response."_

Viktor E. Frankl

_**- Chapter 4: Training –**_

Nothing occurred over the next few days. Naminé had drawn herself out of depression, as her conversation with Xemnas earlier had broken the monotony of her imprisonment. Roxas hadn't visited, and she woke up every morning to food in her room on her nightstand. She wondered – and worried about – how she didn't wake up when whomever delivered the meals.

Although the sadness had dissipated for now, the boredom ate at her mind like a parasite. She almost wished she would fall into depression again – at least that way, she didn't care. Sitting in this room day and night, she itched to go outside. To do something. Her current activities only consisted of showering, eating, and playing with her hair. She felt like a big ball of energy with no channel to release it. And, against her better sense, she found herself almost _wishing_ that Roxas would stop by.

The next day, finally, her wish was granted. The lock on her door turned and the doorknob followed. Naminé tensed in anticipation, excitement, and fear, before Roxas strolled into the room. He took in her appearance and she felt her skin tingle.

"I came to tell you that we're beginning your training tomorrow."

"Okay," she agreed, dying to get out of this room. She mentally kicked herself for being so easy, so controllable, but Roxas didn't show any surprise.

He turned to leave. That's it? Naminé thought, antsy. Sadly, his visit had been the peak of her day. "Wait!" she called out.

He stopped. "What?" he demanded, irritated.

"Um… Can I go with you right now… wherever you're going?" she spat out the first thing that popped into mind.

"I have things to do," he said shortly. As if he wasn't even giving her the time of day.

Naminé grew frustrated. "_I _have things to do, too. _I _should be in school, or contacting my brother, or-or something! But instead I'm trapped in this damned place because of you!" she burst. He just stared at her, her words bouncing off him like water falling on a turtle shell. She gathered herself, slightly embarrassed by her sudden outburst, but still upset. "The least you could do is let me leave the room…" she turned her eyes away, discouraged.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his head turn away from her as well. "You're going to get out of this room tomorrow, so just wait," his tone was final.

She clenched her fist. "Well, could you at least bring me something to do in here for now?" Her voice was tense, despite the fact that she was trying to persuade him.

He seemed to be laughing on the inside at her. "What, do you want me to go to the store and by you some crayons?" he asked sarcastically.

She thought. "Well, a sketchbook would be nice. And colored pencils…" she trailed off, pondering to herself.

He nearly laughed and began strolling towards the door. Clearly, he was not taking her seriously. Her frustration grew again, and this time it was stronger. Her muscles tensed. Did he not realize what they were doing to her – what _he _was doing to her? She was miserable. She felt like a caged animal. He had no right to laugh at her. She glowered.

"Damn you, Roxas!" Before she could think clearly, she ripped the alarm clock out of the wall and hurled it at his head. He ducked, despite the fact that he wasn't even facing her to see it, and pieces flew everywhere as it hit the door in front of him.

Naminé froze, coming to her senses. Roxas remained unmoving; however, Naminé watched his fists clench. He turned his head, narrowing his eyes at her. They were darker than usual. Naminé felt her breath catch in her throat.

He turned, and Naminé flinched as the door slammed upon his exit. Wasn't she supposed to be winning these people over? She mentally cringed. One step forward and two steps back, again.

**xx**

Naminé awoke the next morning feeling more down than usual, given the circumstances. Her dreams had still failed to return to her, and she felt especially lonely. Glancing to the left, a pile on the floor caught her eye.

It was… it was a sketchbook! And colored pencils. Naminé beamed despite herself and hurried to the mess. Clearly, Roxas had granted her wish. He made a point to leave the colored pencils scattered around messily, the contents obviously tossed onto the floor without care. As if to say, _I'm still the dick you think I am._

Naminé gathered everything with joy. Her enthusiasm dimmed slightly when she realized how foolishly excited she was over the small gift. If her life had been the way it was before, a sketchbook would not have been something to get worked up over. Sadly, things had changed.

She pushed those thoughts aside and sat on her bed. Finally, a release from the boredom! She immediately went to work, sketching the first thing that came to mind when her fingers gripped a colored pencil: her friends.

Upon realizing that this seemed to be first instinct – drawing her friends – Naminé drew back within herself, feeling a pang in her chest. She missed familiar faces more than she could bear. It hurt, nearly physically, similar to the pain she experienced when her father left…

"_Dad?" thirteen-year-old Naminé called out tiredly, rubbing her eyes. She had come downstairs to get a glass of water in the middle of the night. Disoriented, she noticed a figure sitting in the arm chair in the living room. _

_Naminé flicked on a dim light. It was her father, like she assumed. "What are you doing?" she questioned, slightly worried. _

_He was simply sitting there, in the same suit he had worn to work earlier: he had never gone to sleep. Naminé glanced at the clock. 2:03AM. Her father stared at the wall in front of him, his eyes vacant. _

_She hesitantly made her way over to him. "Are you okay?" she prodded gently. It appeared to be another one of those sleepless nights, the kind he experienced since her mother died. She was accustomed to his bouts of depression, yet this… this was different. His eyes were dead, filled with emptiness. Naminé found herself frightened. _

_He still hadn't looked at her. He only sat there stiffly, wearily. Finally, she reached out and placed her hand on his arm. "Dad," she called out again. _

_The physical contact shook him out of his reverie. He turned his head towards her, and she observed the bags under his eyes. Recognition registered. "Autumn?" he gasped, confused. Recognition of someone else. He mistook her for her mother, Autumn. _

"_No, dad… it's Naminé." For some reason, Naminé felt guilty upon pointing out that fact. She wished she could bring her mom back – if only to bring her father back, as well. _

"_Oh, Naminé, you started me…" he trailed off dully, a half-hearted attempt to cover up his blunder. He slowly rubbed his eyes. _

_Something was off. Naminé pushed away her fear, her intuition to take more action, and tugged on his arm gently. "Come on. Let's get you to sleep." _

_He followed her wordlessly upstairs, and she opened his door for him. "Goodnight, dad. I love you," she said quietly, trying not to let dejection seep into her tone. _

_He didn't respond as he walked slowly to his bed. His lonely, king-sized bed. Maybe he didn't hear her. She closed the door silently and went back to her own room, never retrieving the glass of water she had intended to get in the first place. _

_She fell into a restless sleep, unable to shake the feeling that something was not right. _

_The next morning, he was gone. His shoes – they were always by the front door on weekend mornings – were gone. This small, subtle observation sent Naminé into a panic. She ran back upstairs and threw open her father's door. Nothing. _

_His keys were missing from their usual spot on the counter. Some of his clothes, gone. The bed, unmade. The car missing from the driveway. _

"_Maybe he's out running errands," Cloud suggested, trying to comfort her. _

_But both of them knew that their father no longer ran 'errands.' It was a futile attempt to comfort her – and probably himself, as well. But something in Naminé's gut told her differently. And just as instinct never lies, her father never returned. His absence created a nightmare she never quite awoke from… _

Naminé glanced down at her sketchbook. Her father stared back at her. Naminé tensed. Without meaning to, she had drawn him, sitting in that stupid arm chair, with that stupid look on his face, staring at her, staring at who he thought was his wife, who was dead for God's sake!

"I hate you!" Naminé heard herself shriek violently, and watched her hands tear out the page before shredding it to pieces. She watched as the last paper piece fell onto her comforter peacefully, contrasting the nastiness she felt in her stomach.

'_What was that?'_ She wondered. She had never had an outburst like that, and felt ashamed as she came back down to earth. She thought that she had forgiven her father for leaving – at least in her own mind. She had never felt such antimosity towards him, although therapists had told her she had the right to be "angry" and implied that it was unnatural that she wasn't.

Maybe they would be happy to see her now, venting out this rage. Yet… it didn't feel right. This place was bringing out the worst in her. Naminé hung her head in shame, feeling as if her mother watched her from Heaven with an expression of remorse and disappointment.

She gathered up the scraps of her drawing and dropped them in the trashcan. She didn't feel like herself.

Just as she finished cleaning up her mess, the doorknob to her room turned. She watched the door, expecting Roxas.

Instead, a fiery red head strolled in casually. "Hello, Naminé," he said charismatically. Naminé recognized him from school: Axel. Yet another person that her fellow classmates had avoided in the hallways.

"Hi," she squeaked. He seemed amused.

"I believe we haven't officially met. My name is Axel." He extended his arm for a handshake. He towered over her. Although he seemed friendly – at least, friendly relative to the other people in this place – Naminé couldn't help but feel intimidated. She shook his hand, staring at him and not quite knowing what to say. "_Got it memorized_?"

"W-what?" she stuttered, and he laughed.

"I'll take that as a no. Come on, we don't want to keep mean ol' Roxy waiting." He made a face and turned around, and she followed him out the door.

She struggled to stay in stride with him, his pace quick. "Where are we going?" she asked, looking at him.

"Outside," he responded nonchalantly.

"Outside!" Naminé exclaimed without thinking. She fought the urge to jump up in down in joy. He glanced at her, amused, and her face reddened slightly. "I mean…" She realized there was really no way to backtrack on this one.

"No, no, I get it. It's been months since you've seen the light of day, I completely understand your excitement," he said lightly as they turned a corner.

Months…? It hadn't been months, had it? Naminé panicked. What if she hadn't been paying attention to the amount of time passing? After all, at a certain point stuck in that room, all the days blended together. Had it really been months?

Axel observed her. "I'm kidding," he explained. As if reading her mind, he added, "You've been here for two weeks, in case you're wondering."

Naminé let out a sigh of relief. They approached the stairwell and began walking up. _Up? _

"Where…?" Naminé wondered.

"You'll see."

After countless flights of stairs, they reached a door at the top that read "ROOF ACCESS." Axel held the door open for her, and she stepped out into the fresh air. She stopped and closed her eyes, inhaling, battling the smile that fought to form on her face. It felt so _good_ to be outside. Her skin basked in the sun's rays.

"Well, you look stupid as ever."

Naminé's head shot towards Roxas, leaning against a projection from the rooftop. He stared at her with a smug look on his face, as if he had caught her doing something private.

She glared back.

"Now, Roxas, is that any way to treat a lady?" Axel asked, sarcastic, before patting Naminé on the back as he walked past her. She let out an _oof_ at the force of his pat. Was _that_ anyway to treat a lady? She could have laughed at the irony.

Following Axel's cue, Roxas stood straight from his leaning position. "Let's get to work."

Naminé had nearly forgotten that this was supposed to be her training session. She suddenly became nervous. How could they bring out a power in her that she herself didn't know how to access?

Axel and Roxas were heading towards a more open area of the rooftop, and Naminé followed accordingly. They reached the middle of the grounds and stopped, waiting for her to catch up. Once she did, Roxas addressed her.

"Hit me," he ordered, standing in front of her.

"Hit you?" Naminé questioned. All this time, he had theoretically slapped her hand every time she had tried to hurt him. It seemed to go against her instincts now when he told her to attack him.

"Are you deaf?" He grew impatient.

"I just… don't see how that's going to accomplish anything," she shrugged, implying the obvious. She was outmatched: he was too powerful for her. She doubted she could even make contact if she swung.

"Dammit, Naminé, just do it," he growled, stepping towards her. The tone of his voice, combined with his threatening posture, urged her into action.

She swung out at his jaw, and as she expected, he caught her fist. He held it, staring. "You're bad, even for a girl…" he commented. He pushed her back. "Do it again."

"But-"

"If you don't hit me, I'm going to hit you," he threatened.

With no choice, she swung out again. He caught her fist again, gripping it tighter this time.

"Ow, Roxas!" she cried out, drawing back from him and cradling her sore hand.

"You're not trying. When you swing at me, you swing as if you've already accepted defeat. How are you supposed to tap into your power if you don't think you can even do anything with it?" he prodded, frustrated.

Naminé felt herself grow angry. "I don't see how any of _this_ has to do with tapping into power! It doesn't even seem like it's a physical thing, so what good is this stupid training?"

Axel chimed in. Naminé had forgotten he was even there. "Roxas, I think you need to try a little harder than that. Why are you going so easy on her?"

Easy? _Easy? _If this was easy, then what the hell was hard going to be? His creepy, dark power gripping her heart again? She would refuse to cooperate if she had to experience _that_ again.

Out of nowhere, Roxas shoved her. Naminé stumbled backwards but caught herself before falling on her butt. "Hey-" She was going to tell him off, but he kept advancing and pushed her backwards again. He kept doing it, and she began to push back.

"What-" she began, before tripping backwards and landing on her behind with a rough _thud_.

Roxas towered over her. The sun was directly behind his head, so she couldn't read his eyes as she peered up at him. "You don't even fight back. How pathetic."

She stood up, thinking he was done. Yet before she could even fully stand, he shoved her hard, to the ground again. He yanked her back up by her forearm. "You are useless," he spat, dragging her back in Axel's direction and throwing her towards him. Something inside her snapped when he turned and began walking towards the door.

She bolted after him, blinded by frustration and fully intending to sock him in the back of the head. Her body ached already, and he had no right to treat her the way he was – the way he always did. She'd reached her boiling point.

Roxas spun and caught her wrist as she let her fist fly, using her momentum to flip her over his head and onto the solid floor. She felt the impact throughout her back as the air was knocked out of her. She saw stars, blinking to clear them away, and she struggled to breathe.

"On second thought, it looks like you've got this one covered," Naminé heard Axel say lazily. She vaguely heard his footsteps approach the roof exit, before she heard the door open and close. He had left. Roxas paid this no heed.

When she could see straight again, she realized Roxas had landed on top of her after the flipping stunt he pulled. Her chest rose and fell violently as she regained her breath. She was infuriated and in pain – and it didn't help that he was so close. Although he was holding most of his weight from crushing her, it felt as if his body heat was transferring into her. She felt his breath on her lips.

His eyes dared her to do something. Although she hated to comply, she swung at his face. He caught her fist, but without missing a beat, she swung her other arm out at him. She managed to nick him slightly, but he soon pinned that wrist too. She had no effect on him, she realized.

"Are you this weak?" he asked quietly, seriously, leaning in. "Do you realize all the things I could do to you right now? All the things anyone could do to you?"

What did he mean? Naminé struggled, kicking her body in every direction. He barely budged. "Get off of me, Roxas!"

Although she hated to admit it, she was afraid. She felt powerless under him and unraveled by his blue eyes boring into hers. She squirmed. The fear soon left, though, replaced by anger. Something sparked within her and she felt the shift, though she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

"I don't want to do this anymore!" she growled, twisting and managing to get a violent shove in at his chest. Her hands bounced off him.

His eyes changed, and his expression switched from one of frustration to intrigue. She noticed he now held more of his weight off her.

"This feeling, Naminé; hold on to it," he informed, his voice no longer cold. He began to get off of her.

Naminé laid there after he stood up. He stared at her, waiting, but she was busy overcoming whiplash from the dramatic shift in his attitude. Her anger was replaced by confusion. "W-what?" she sputtered out.

"Here. Look." He grasped her hand and pulled her into standing position. She followed him, confusion taking over her anger, towards a small faucet next to the door to the stairwell. Under it was a large puddle, as water dripped out. Naminé followed numbly.

"Look at your reflection." Roxas urged her forward.

Apprehension plagued her. Yet too baffled to object, Naminé peered in – and looked into eyes that were not her own.

**A/N: Please review. I'll update much quicker that way:) Oh, and if anyone was wondering, I got slaughtered by my first midterm. Woop. **


	5. The Labs

"_Speak when you are angry and you will make the best speech you will ever regret."_ – Ambrose Bience

_**- Chapter 5: The Lab** – _

Her eyes widened and the eyes in the puddle widened as well. Her irises – they were golden, sparkling. A distant light emanated from them. It was unreal. She reached up and touched her eyelashes, blinking against her fingertips. To her relief, she looked the same despite her shining eyes.

"What… what does this mean?" she asked slowly, mesmerized by the face in the puddle staring back at her. Her face.

"It means that we've made progress. Right now, whether you feel it or not, you've tapped into your power," he explained. If she wasn't so distracted by her shocking appearance, she would have noted that he was treating her like a civilized human being for once.

She reluctantly drew her eyes away from the puddle and looked at him. "W-will this go away?" she asked in a small voice. For some reason, her appearance frightened her.

Roxas seemed to backtrack. "Naminé, you should be glad that this happened. It means you're gaining control over your power," he said, as if he was trying to convince her of something that he shouldn't need to – as if she was missing an obvious fact. His arms crossed over his chest.

Before, when she had been trying to tap into her "gift" – or whatever it was – in her room, she would have been elated at this type of discovery… Yet, anxiety filled her stomach. Something wasn't right, and she couldn't put a finger on it.

But someone else could.

"_Naminé, you must be careful," _a female voice in her head warned. Naminé froze, instantly recognizing the voice from her dreams. It had her full attention. She hadn't heard it in a while and usually did not experience it in her waking life.

"Why?" she questioned, digging for answers. Her eyes became unfocused as she diverted her attention to the voice, waiting for an answer – she sensed it was important.

"What do you mean, why?" Roxas asked gruffly, running his hands through his hair.

She glanced at him distractedly, nearly forgetting that he was there. Her eyes barely processed him standing there staring at her.

"_If you toy with the powers of the light… use them for purposes of evil," _the voice explained slowly and gently before letting the blade of the guillotine drop. _"They will consume you." _

Powers of light? Naminé let out a breath she didn't know she held. "I'm not doing anything bad, though…" she trailed off in slight objection.

"Naminé?" Roxas leaned towards her. He waved a hand in front of her face and his eyes flickered up at him. "Who are you talking to?" he asked suspiciously. She batted his hand away absent-mindedly.

"_You must listen to me, Naminé… If you continue like this…" _the voice began to fade out, and Naminé only caught fragments of what she was saying before it disappeared completely. She stood for a few seconds, stunned, before stepping back and looking into the puddle. Her eyes no longer glowed.

She felt a hand grip her shoulder. "Hey," Roxas grabbed her attention. She turned to him. "What was that all about?" he demanded.

"Nothing…" she dismissed half-heartedly and looked away. Sadness filled her, though she didn't know why.

"Tell me," he urged, "It might be important."

She grew slightly frustrated. "It's nothing, okay? I was just talking to myself." She shrugged his hand off her shoulder.

He let out a curt breath and turned away in annoyance. "You're lying to me." She expected him to press on, but he didn't. "Come on, let's go."

He opened the door to the stairwell, and Naminé left the fresh air reluctantly. The sun seemed to completely set as the door closed behind them, and the world outside filled with darkness.

**xx**

Later that night, she found herself in the same far-off mood since leaving the rooftop. She felt lonely, like usual, but with a tinge of something else. Sadness, but not depression – it was as if she was feeling the pain of someone else's tears. Her heart filled with emptiness.

Trying to shake it off, she began to sketch. She laid on her stomach in bed, her pencils moving along the paper in a familiar way that eased some of the tension.

She sketched her eyes as they had been golden, and her brother – God, how he must be worried sick about her – and even her mother. Or what she could remember of her appearance. She had passed away when Naminé was still a child.

She jumped when she heard a knock on her door. Roxas entered before she responded to the intruding noise.

"Vexen wants to see you in the labs."

She stared at him blankly. "Who's that?"

His explanation was brief and annoyed. "The guy with straight hair… you'll recognize him. Come on."

She looked at the clock. "It's almost midnight…"

He let out an exasperated sigh, waiting. She slowly got up, her lag a small act of rebellion, and gathered her sketchbook and colored pencils to put away. She could feel impatience radiating off Roxas.

Just when she thought he was going to snap at her, she turned to him, ready to go.

He turned on his heel and they left the room, going downstairs. Continuing down flights of stairs – seemingly further down than Naminé believed possible for the building they were in – Naminé turned to Roxas. "Where are we going?"

"Basement."

That would explain why they were going down so far. "What am I going to the labs for?" She didn't even know that they had labs.

"Tests, for now. They won't start experiments until later."

"Experiments… on me?"

He didn't answer. She didn't have it in her to press, exhausted by the day's events. She would mule over the thought later.

Finally, they reached their destination. An ominous metal door loomed before them. Roxas pressed a button and the door slid open, revealing a room with metallic walls and a linoleum floor. The room smelled stale and soapy.

Roxas entered and she followed nervously. They spotted a figure with his back to them, writing something down over a countertop. He turned to them, straight light-colored hair covering parts of his face.

"Ah, hello Naminé," he greeted, arms open in a welcoming gesture. "I am Vexen, the Organization's scientist…" He nodded to Roxas. "Number Thirteen."

Roxas hardly acknowledged Vexen and Naminé stared, unsure of how to act. "Why don't you take a seat, Naminé," Vexen suggested.

Naminé looked around the room. There was a huge, bulky metal chair bolted to the ground; a wooden chair with something hanging over it that seemed to go on the sitter's head; and a few simple white chairs like the one in Naminé's room. She opted for the last option.

"Thirteen, I don't believe I'll be needing you here for these," Vexen dismissed. Naminé felt herself panic.

"The Leader requested that I stay," Roxas stated dully before leaning against one of the countertops. Naminé let out a breath of relief.

Vexen raised an eyebrow, clearly unpleased and baffled, but continued. "Splendid…"

He turned to Naminé and she sat straighter. "Well Naminé, today I only have a series of simple questions – that's all," he explained, as if noticing her nerves. Although she couldn't read him too well and this made her uneasy, his words did calm her.

She nodded. "Okay."

Vexen lifted a clipboard of the countertop and took a seat near her. He glanced down at the clipboard and clicked his pen. "How old are you?"

"Sixteen."

"What size shoe do you wear?"

Naminé scrunched her eyebrows. What was this for? "Six and a half," she answered, her tone questioning.

"Height?"

"5'2."

"Blood type?"

"Um… I don't know."

He stopped scribbling. "Roxas, bring me that kit right there." He gestured towards a box on the counter. Roxas ignored him. Letting out a huff and muttering something about "stupid kids," Vexen stood up and gathered the kit himself. He made of show of walking over to the counter to make his frustration known.

He went to Naminé's side, opening up the kit. "Your right arm, please."

Uneasily, Naminé extended her arm to him. He quickly inserted a needle into her arm and Naminé flinched at the suddenness. Within a few seconds, however, he had already drawn the blood.

The questioning continued after this for what felt like an hour. Naminé yawned tiredly, bored and wanting to curl up under some covers to sleep.

Finally, a question occurred that was unlike the others. "When did you first notice your ability to control aspects of light?"

Naminé became attentive again. "Light?"

"Why, yes. From my own observations and the observations of others, I believe that you have the ability to wield the powers of light," Vexen explained. "That's the only explanation…" he trailed off in wonder, appearing to speak to himself.

The voice in her head had mentioned "powers of light." How had Vexen hit it on the head so easily? She eyed him, wondering how he had enough information to give her answers that paralleled the voice's answers. He was busy staring down at his clipboard. It seemed like everyone around here knew more about her abilities than she did. She shifted in her seat – this bothered her.

Vexen suddenly looked up, and Naminé's mind snapped to his prior question. "I guess… I guess when I ran into Roxas at the beach a few weeks ago. That's why I first noticed I had those types of… powers." The words felt foreign tumbling out of her mouth.

"What do you believe triggered your power that night?" Vexen's eyes pieced into her in fascination; apparently the late hours of the night hadn't caught up with him.

"Um… Well, I was scared. I thought I was going to die," Naminé admitted, recalling the horrific feelings in her stomach that night. She glanced at Roxas and he slowly averted his gaze. "And… well, I wasn't really thinking when – when whatever happened, happened. It was like something took over my body."

"I see…" Vexen scribbled for a little bit. "What other experiences have you had regarding your powers?"

Naminé thought. She remembered the dreams that she'd been having for the past year – however, she didn't want to tell him about those. She felt like those were… private. She thought of the dream voice that now visited her in waking life, as well. She didn't want to tell him about that, either. She knew it was relevant; however, she felt as if he would dissect and destroy it, and it would lose whatever meaning it had. Naminé knew she couldn't tell anyone about her dreams.

"I was trying to meditate in my room during the first few days of being here. When I opened my eyes after a while, I was floating," she recalled. There. She could spare him that information.

"Interesting…" Scribbling continued. "Anything else?"

"I guess I did something strange when I was with Roxas, too. He was… using _his_ power-" that was the only way she knew how to explain it, "-and had a ball of… something dark in his hand. I touched it, and it disappeared."

Roxas looked peeved by this fact.

"Oh?" Vexen inquired, turning towards Roxas. "Thirteen, you failed to mention this to me… or anyone, I believe."

He shrugged. "It wasn't urgent."

Vexen's annoyance with him returned. "Nothing ever is with you…" he muttered. Naminé was slightly amused by Roxas's indifference and Vexen's resulting frustration with him.

"Well, I couldn't do it twice," Naminé felt the need to explain, as if covering for Roxas. "I couldn't do it the second time he made a… ball… of energy."

The corners of Roxas's lips turned up slightly towards Naminé's description, though he wasn't looking at her.

"And why not?" Vexen inquired further, leaning towards her.

Naminé shifted back uncomfortably. "I'm not sure. The first time I did it, I wasn't thinking… the second time, it felt forced."

"So what happened?"

"I touched it… and it hurt. A lot." She shivered as she recalled the icy feeling.

Vexen nodded in understanding. "So, would you say that your subconscious mind controls your power?"

Naminé pondered, looking up and putting a finger to her chin. "I… I guess so." She hadn't thought of it that way, but it sounded right.

"Any more experiences?"

"Just the one with Roxas on the roof after that."

Vexen nodded. "Thirteen mentioned that one, at least... Do any visions or strange dreams accompany your power?"

Naminé fidgeted. "No," she tried to keep her voice even.

Her voice must have been steady or Vexen didn't call her out on her lie. His face remained blank, and she couldn't read him. He lowered his clipboard and tucked the pen away in it. "I see. Well, Naminé, you have a gift unlike any we've seen. As you've heard, the Organization intends to utilize you-" he cleared his throat and rephrased "-or rather, _enhance _your gift… to bring us closer to our goal."

Naminé worked up some gall. "Which is?"

He glanced at her. "You will discover it in due time. As for now, cooperate, and things will be easier on us… and you." It sounded similar to Xemnas's threat. "I will inform you, though, of my plans for you. While you train with Roxas and other members to tap into the physicalities of your power, here in the lab, we will work on the mental part." He tapped his temple. "We will focus on transferring control of your power from the subconscious part of your brain to the conscious part."

Naminé nodded, her fatigue returning. "O-okay…" She fought off a yawn.

"As of right now, I have received all the basic information I need. This concludes our session." Vexen stood, tucking his pen into his coat and appearing very doctor-like.

Naminé stood as well, glancing tiredly at Roxas. He was already walking towards the door. She struggled to catch up with him.

They walked alongside each other as he led her back to her room. Silence engulfed them.

She peered at him. "Roxas, what are you guys?" The question had plagued her mind for weeks. She'd been ready to ask the question for a while, now; she just hadn't known if she was ready for the answer.

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "You don't need to know," he dismissed.

Tired and out of patience, she responded sharply. "Yes, I do. After all, if I'm going to _help_ you guys – which is completely against my will, by the way – I deserve the right to know who I'm helping. Or _what_ I'm helping," she spat angrily.

She saw him tense up. He didn't respond, and this only added fuel to Naminé's anger.

"You're not going to tell me anything, are you?" she demanded, continuing and feeling her rage burn around the edges of each word. She went in for the kill, blinded by frustration. "It's like – it's like you have no soul. All you care about is yourself, and you know what, everyone at school knew this, too. They were right when they told me to stay away from you and your crowd, there's something missing up there – in your head, and, and…" she knew she was rambling and heard herself. She mentally told herself to stop, but could not control the steady stream of venom flowing from her mouth to Roxas's ears.

He continued to ignore her, and if she had been in the right mind, she would have noticed his physiological reaction to her malicious words. His body was tense; his posture, timid. She felt her rage finally explode. She grabbed his arm, bringing them both to a halt in the hallway and forcing him to turn towards her. "Are you even listening to me?" she yelled, her eyes piercing into his.

Then she realized – his eyes were grey again. Anger seeped away from her, replaced by fear. She backtracked. What had caused her to say such things? She instantly regretted it, seeing the rage in Roxas's eyes – she knew she had pushed him too far. She had become accustomed to his presence, and lately, they hadn't been arguing much at all; she had forgotten the consequences of pushing him to the brink.

All of this flashed through her brain in less than a second. Roxas threw her hand from his arm and grabbed her tightly. She sucked in a breath at his harsh grip.

"Naminé," he warned darkly, "If you don't shut your mouth, I will kill you."

Naminé's heart jumped. He meant it – she knew he meant it. He glared at her with a rage so insidious that he seemed capable of doing anything to her. "I-I'm-"

She was going to apologize, but Roxas interrupted her. His grip tightened. "Shut. Your. Mouth."

She clamped her lips together and looked down at her feet. Roxas's grip on her arm hurt, but she was afraid to say anything.

He turned sharply and unexpectedly, dragging her down the hallway. She stumbled and would have fallen if not for his arm around her.

When they arrived at her room, Roxas nearly threw her in there. He slammed the door and she stood their numbly.

She rubbed her arm as she pieced together her thoughts. _'I'm such an idiot…'_

**A/N: Thank you to those of you who've reviewed. Always brings up my mood. New readers, please leave a comment and let me know you're out there. Followers and returners, you're my audience: let me know what you think. You could make a girl's day:)**


	6. Burns

"_It takes a thousand horses to pull back what slips from the tongue." _

_**- Chapter 6: Burns - **_

The next morning, a man with long blue hair and a promising 'x' lined into the center of his face retrieved Naminé for her training with Roxas. She nervously followed him upstairs, unsure of how Roxas would treat her after the previous night's events. She had been wrong and she knew it – in fact, she felt guilty about her childish behavior.

Blue Hair was a man of few words. He had only uttered "come" when he had retrieved her from her room, and his demeanor was very serious. Naminé wrung her hands together awkwardly. She wondered where his scar originated from, but dismissed the thought hastily when gory images came to mind.

She grimaced and settled on other things. She pressed him as they walked through the hallways. "What's your name?" she asked meagerly.

He peered down at her from a mile above. "Saix."

"Oh…" She waited for him to say more. He didn't. "I'm Naminé," she blurted out uncomfortably.

She didn't know why she was even trying to talk to him. Under normal circumstances, she would have been fine with the silence – maybe even preferred it. Perhaps she was subconsciously trying to make up for her bitter words to Roxas.

He didn't say anything and her cheeks reddened slightly. He probably already knew her name… They continued in a deafening silence all the way to the rooftop.

Upon arriving, Naminé noticed that Roxas was nowhere to be found. Instead, Axel stood there with his arms crossed. Saix left wordlessly.

"Hello, Naminé," Axel greeted, his tone dipping with the "a" in her name. His lips upturned into a Cheshire Cat grin.

"Hi, Axel." Naminé made her way forward unsurely. "Where's Roxas?"

"Oh, who knows." He shrugged. "I think Xemnas had a mission for him, or maybe he's at school." He waved away the subject absent-mindedly.

Naminé grimaced at the word. School. She'd been gone for weeks now and was probably terribly behind. Although it was the least of her worries, it was still a worry. Further processing Axel's words, she backtracked.

"Roxas is at school?" Naminé asked, torn between envy and confusion. She had forgotten that they had gone to the same school once. He had always seemed out of place there – now that she knew about his abilities, school seemed like the last place she would expect to find him.

"Er, no, actually. He stopped going…" Axel seemed to be remembering this for himself, trailing off. He muttered something Naminé couldn't catch.

"Why-"

Axel dismissed the subject, interrupting her. "Ready to train?" he asked, fire in his eyes.

"Um… with you?" Naminé asked slowly. She had expected Roxas to be present. She had even mentally gone over the apology she was going to give him, if only to ease her guilt. He hadn't deserved her verbal assault.

Axel rolled his eyes. "Well, yeah," he responded as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. And it was. Naminé blushed slightly.

"Y-yeah, I'm ready. What are we going to do?"

"This."

Before Naminé knew what was happening, a ball of fire was coming directly towards her head. Instinctively, she ducked, feeling the heat of the flames pass over her head. Eyes wide, she whipped her head back to Axel.

"Not bad," he observed before throwing another one her way. This time, it came towards her feet. Naminé yelped and jumped, missing the flames by a hair.

"Hey!" she cried out.

He laughed. "I'm just messing with you. Well, not really, this is part of the training." He paused. "How did Roxas say he brought out your power?" he seemed to be talking to himself, looking up as he tried to recall. "Oh yeah. Fear."

He hurled several more fire balls her way, and Naminé twisted and turned frantically as she tried to dodge them. He heart rate was out of control as she jumped and ducked, stumbling back to get away from Axel. Instinct told her to turn and bolt, but doing so would make her unable to see and dodge the flames coming her way.

She cried out as one of the fireballs seared her skin, sending a scorching pain up her arm. She stumbled, distracted by the blinding white pain, before barely managing to dodge another. She cradled her injured arm.

"Oops. Naminé, you're gonna have to do better than that!" She heard Axel's voice taunt from a distance.

Growing fatigued, she barely managed to continue dodging the flames. "Axel, you're going to kill me!" she screamed as a fireball hurled past her.

"Just get scared already!" she heard his voice yell to her.

"What the hell?" she mumbled, landing on her butt roughly before rolling to the side to avoid another flame. She had never been a very athletic girl – the fact that she was dodging these now was simply due to adrenaline, which was surely running out.

After a few more twists and turns, she found herself in an awkward position with a ball of fire coming straight towards her torso. She knew – she just _knew _– that this would be the end of her.

"_Put your hands up!" _the female voice from her dreams demanded suddenly. Without questioning it, Naminé closed her eyes and threw her hands out before her, turning her head away and scrunching her eyes. This was the end.

She felt her arms jolt back as if something was pressing against them, but the force left as suddenly as it had come; heat approached her and then left just as quickly. Yet she felt no pain: she hadn't been burned… or killed. She heard a sharp noise. When she opened her eyes, she saw that her hands had formed a square of light in front of her. The fireball was now heading towards Axel, whose eyes widened as he jumped to the side.

Suddenly, the wall of light vanished and her arms dropped tiredly. She was drained. Axel stopped hurling the fireballs at her. He stood upright and walked towards her, applauding slowly. He was completely unscathed.

"Not bad, Naminé, not bad…" As he neared her, he saw her eyes. "Well, we definitely tapped into your power today."

Naminé guessed that her eyes were glowing again. She was too tired to find somewhere to look at her reflection.

She sat on the ground, leaning back on her hands as she panted. She closed her eyes and laid down completely, shaking as remnants of adrenaline left her. She felt drained.

"Oh, come on, it wasn't that bad." She heard Axel come to a stop next to her. "You _reflected _my attack back at me. I don't know if I've ever seen something like that."

She didn't care right now. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block him out as her body and mind recovered. Axel let out a sigh, but otherwise allowed her to compose herself. She heard his foot begin to tap against the rooftop.

Finally, he spoke.

"Look, I'm _sorry_, but I had to do it." He didn't seem like one for apologies. Naminé opened her eyes to weakly glare at him. "But you need to get up. We're not done."

Naminé shot up – or struggled up – into an ungraceful sitting position. "The hell we're not! I'm _done_," she spat, before standing and striding towards the door.

Flames went up in front of her as she reached for the doorknob. She recoiled in surprise, turning on her heel to glare at him.

Axel gestured with his hands. "I hate to break it to you, _sweetheart-_" Sarcasm dripped from his words "-but we've only been up here for fifteen minutes. I was ordered to train with you for two hours."

"Two hours?!" she exclaimed, burying her head in her hands. "Axel, I can't. I really can't. I already feel exhausted," she explained softly, looking at him and working up the most helpless expression she could muster.

It must have worked a little. "Well… Take a fifteen minute break." He looked away, and then back at her, resolved. "But after that, you're up and ready again… Got it memorized?"

She groaned, but she supposed it was the best she would get. The wall of fire in front of her disappeared, and her back slid down against the door as she sat against it. She put her elbows on her knees and crossed her arms.

She inhaled sharply, tearing her arms apart. "Ah!" she cried as she felt pain shoot up her limb.

She glanced at her arm – she had forgotten she had been burned. The wound was a swipe of raw, red skin. She barely noticed Axel approach her.

"Oh, right. Sorry about that." He didn't sound too concerned.

Through her adrenaline, the pain must have left her; now, as her body recovered, it returned full force. "Can we get some ointment for this or something?" she hissed, feeling pain pulse in her arm.

"I guess we're going to have to. It could get infected, and then you'd have to get your arm amputated," he stated matter-of-factly. Naminé blanched and whipped her head towards him. He raised his hands in defense. "Joking, joking…"

He helped her up and then extended his arm out in the air. A dark portal emerged, identical to the one Roxas opened that night at the beach.

Naminé examined it, scrunching her eyebrows. "How come-"

Axel interrupted her. "It would take too much energy if we did it all the time." He answered her question: _How come we don't use this instead of the stairs?_

Naminé nodded and Axel gestured for her to go in. She gulped. It reminded her of the dark magic Roxas wielded. "You first," she suggested.

He rolled his eyes, grabbing her arm. They strolled through the darkness together.

Upon arriving on the other side, Naminé doubled over and gasped for air. "What… what…"

She felt Axel's eyes on her. "You must not be used to it or something," he mused.

She struggled to catch her breath, which had suddenly left her as she entered the portal. The travel had only taken a brief second; yet it left her nauseous and breathless.

She soon recovered and shook off the feeling. "You could have warned me."

She had passed out when she had gone through a portal with Roxas previously – she didn't expect such an intense reaction upon utilizing one a second time.

Axel shrugged. "How could I have known? I've never seen anyone react like that."

He seemed to dismiss the subject. After recovering, Naminé noticed they were outside a white door. Yet unlike the other doors of the building, there was a window and the handle was metallic and elongated.

They entered the room, which Naminé thought resembled the nurse's office at school. Zexion sat in a chair, his nose buried in a large book. He looked up.

Axel gestured towards her. "Burn."

Naminé hesitantly held out her wounded arm to him. Zexion examined it. "Unfortunately, that's going to scar."

Naminé cringed.

"All the more for you to remember me by," Axel winked at her.

She ignored him and focused on Zexion's actions. He seemed to know what he was doing, pulling out various items from different drawers. After retrieving everything, he grasped her arm and started applying a white cream to it.

Naminé hissed and fought the instinct to recoil. Zexion was unfazed by her pain.

Soon, her arm was all bandaged up. To her surprise, it felt much better. "Thanks," she told Zexion genuinely as she tested out the mobility of her arm. He nodded before returning to his chair and busying himself with reading.

"About time. Let's go." Axel turned to leave and Naminé followed.

"Where are we going?" Naminé asked with a feeling of dread, dragging her feet alongside the taller figure.

"Your favorite place."

Naminé groaned. She couldn't bear training again. It was terrifying. "Come on, Axel. Let's…" she trailed off into a long explanation for reasons why they shouldn't train, half of which she was sure he ignored.

As they walked through one of the hallways, Naminé bumped into someone after turning a corner. With an overwhelming feeling of _de ja vu_, she glanced up into Roxas's eyes and her heart skipped a nervous beat.

His expression remained blank.

"Roxy, you came just in time. We were just about to finish training." Axel patted Roxas on the back. Naminé swore Axel was the only one who could touch Roxas without getting his head ripped off.

Roxas shrugged him off. "I know. I was just sent to oversee it. I see you made some progress with her," Roxas said to Axel, speaking as if Naminé _wasn't_ standing directly in front of him.

Naminé was confused. How could he tell that they had made progress? Was he referring to the bandages on her arm? _'Jerk'_ she thought, but held her tongue. She didn't want a repeat of last night.

Curiosity getting the better of her, she asked Roxas, "How can you tell?"

He gave her a _you're an_ _idiot _look before Axel chimed in. "Your eyes," he explained simply.

"Oh," she mumbled, remembering her oh-so-useful eye-changing ability.

"Well, let's get going," Axel prompted. "I know Naminé's eager to train."

She shot him a glare as the trio started heading towards the staircase. Roxas and Axel walked ahead of her and conversed. Trailing behind them and slumping her shoulders, Naminé felt insignificant.

In fact, the more she thought about it, the more worked up she became. By the time they reached the roof, Naminé was resolute – she did _not_ want to train and wouldn't let them force her.

She abruptly stopped walking before setting foot outside onto the roof, remaining in the stairwell doorway. Axel and Roxas turned to her as they heard her footsteps pause behind them.

Naminé crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm done training today." She rose her chin in the air subconsciously as she felt their eyes on her. She heard a bird flying overhead _caw._

"Oh, don't throw a temper-tantrum now, sweetheart," Axel rolled his eyes. "I'll go easier on you this time." His tone was light-hearted, yet laced with sarcasm and growing impatience.

"No," Naminé said firmly, making sure she didn't break eye contact with him, though she was slightly reluctant to meet Roxas's eyes. She felt them burning into her. Her spine tingled. "I already got this," she held out her wounded arm dramatically. It _did_ hurt still. "And I'm _done._" She began to feel slightly dizzy with her growing determination.

"Look, your eyes are still glowing – you're still tapped into your power, and we should take advantage of that," Axel exasperated.

Things started spinning around her. Naminé felt anger burst in her. "I'm not training!" she snapped, uncrossing her arms roughly and throwing them down by her sides. Although she didn't want to train, her anger was now becoming overwhelming. She had never been this short-tempered in her life, and it was coming out more and more lately. She didn't ponder that thought now though, instead glaring daggers at Axel.

Axel seemed to be reaching the end of his patience. "Naminé, we don't have fucking time for this," the usually playful red-head snapped.

When Naminé didn't move an inch, he strode towards her. Naminé quickly retreated, slamming the door in his face. Noticing a lock, she latched the door. Not that that would keep them up there, but it would by her some time.

Through a small window in the door, she looked at Axel's face – which was furious at this point – before bolting down the stairway. She still didn't know what was causing her to act this way. She didn't want to train, not at all. Logically, she knew that she wouldn't even get out of it. So why was she doing this?

Frustration flowed through her veins as she kept running, taking over her thoughts. As she made it down a few flights of stairs, she realized she had no idea where she was going. She didn't know her way around the castle and – even worse – what if she ran into someone else?

She didn't care. She'd kill them.

Naminé mentally backtracked. Where did that come from? She'd _kill_ them?

Her logical side fought with her emotional side, which was spiraling beyond control. It was like the two halves were fighting to dominate, and her crazed sprint down the stairs was a testament to which side was winning.

Suddenly, a familiar black portal emerged in front of her. She tried to skid to a halt but failed. Before she could stop herself, she ran into the portal – or rather, through it – and stumbled out on the other side.

**A/N: So we're going to start getting into the ups and downs of things now. I would like to point out that although I'm sticking to the basic characterization of Roxas and Naminé, they are OOC in many ways and will continue to be. Sorry for the delay!:)**


	7. Explosions

**A/N: This chapter may have more errors than usual. I'm just flinging it up right now because I'm going to be bogged down for the next few days and don't want to make the wait that long. **

"_Whate'ers begun in anger ends in shame." _– Benjamin Franklin

_**- Chapter 7: Explosion - **_

Naminé fell onto white pavement after tumbling through the portal. She felt her palms and knees scrape roughly and let out a grunt at the impact.

She looked forward to black boots. Before she could see who was in front of her, a hand on her arm roughly yanked her up. Axel stood in front of her, gripping her arm tightly.

Before he could say anything, her foot shot out and connected with his shin. She yanked her arm back towards her body, though he didn't let go. "I'm _not _training!" Her voice was hysterical with anger now.

She struggled against him with everything she had, not only to get away from him, but to hurt him. All the while, a small voice in the back of her head asked _why?_ Something was wrong; she felt like her anger was taking over and she couldn't control herself. It was almost as if she was having an out-of-body experience, watching herself do these things.

She heard Axel yell at her, but didn't process what he said. _What is wrong with me?_

"_How does this feel, Naminé?" _the female voice from her dreams came at her from all directions, louder as if intensified by Naminé's anger. Naminé kept struggling against Axel, her eyes squeezed shut in exertion.

"It feels terrible!" she screamed. "I hate this! I hate you! Why don't you just _leave me alone_!?" She addressed the voice from her dreams.

'_I don't mean it. I don't mean it,_' Naminé thought. What was wrong with her? She didn't hate the voice from her dreams – in fact, she _liked _it. She considered it a source of comfort, especially in the past few weeks. Why was she lashing out at that, too?

"… her eyes." Naminé barely picked up someone talking about her.

Everything was moving so fast around her, yet she was sure that only a few seconds had passed. She couldn't open her eyes. Her body was tingling with fatigue as she kept struggling against Axel. She felt another pair of arms pull at her, which only increased her efforts to get away – or hurt someone.

"_The anger… it's a product of misusing your powers._" The voice was calm as it told her this.

Naminé flung her hands up to cover her ears. "I don't _care_! Shut up! _Get out of my head_!" She heard her voice echo in the sky. Body tense, her eyes opened. She briefly saw Axel, and with newfound spitefulness towards the voice, she began lashing out and doubling her effort. She managed to swipe his face with her fingernails.

"That's it!" she heard, and then her world spun. She flew sideways to the ground, her body thrown by some unknown force.

As she landed, the air in her body left her. The side of her face immediately began throbbing. She realized that Axel had hit her.

All the anger seemed to leave her once. It abandoned her. She laid there for a moment before getting up to her hands and knees, panting. She could think clearly again, but felt traumatized by what she had just put herself through. Her head throbbed violently, and the wound on her arm felt like it was on fire. She narrowed her eyes to it – the bandage had come off.

"Are you done?" Axel's voice cut through to her.

She saw spots in front of her on the ground and realized that she was crying. She brought one of her hands up to wipe at her face before getting to one foot, then the other, and dragging herself off the ground.

She was afraid to look up. When she did, Axel and Roxas stared back at her. She felt extremely exposed. She looked away in shame.

One of her hands clasped her opposite forearm, which hung tiredly.

She found her voice. "I… Sorry. I don't know…" She didn't know how to explain what had just happened to her – or rather, what she had done.

"Hate to break it to you, but Xemnas will have to hear about this," Axel chimed in seriously.

That was the last thing on Naminé's mind. She was more afraid of what had happened to her – how rage had consumed her completely – and what if it happened again?

"T-that's fine," she responded, looking up again. She tried to focus on the situation at hand. She finally tore her eyes away from Axel and gathering up the courage, she looked at Roxas. He was staring at her, but she couldn't read his expression.

He finally addressed her. "Your eyes are back to normal," was all he said.

"O-oh…" she felt like her vocabulary had left her with her rage. "I forgot…"

"You should have seen them when you were fighting me," Axel whistled, coming out of his own frustration now that Naminé was relatively sane again.

Naminé looked up at him questioningly and he explained: "They were brighter than I've ever seen them."

"Oh…" Naminé fidgeted. She wanted to apologize more, but didn't know what to say. She felt uncomfortable, tired, and she had never been in so much physical pain before. Her whole body throbbed with hurt.

"Now that you're no longer acting like a psycho," Axel started and Naminé winced, "can we train? We only have 30 minutes left with all the time you've eaten up."

Naminé felt like breaking down into tears. "Y-yeah…" she agreed. She didn't know how she was going to do anything; she could barely stand. She felt terribly guilty for what she had put them through.

"It's fine." Roxas. "We'll just train longer tomorrow. I think we're done for today." His voice was emotionless.

Naminé's head shot towards him. Her eyes searched his and found no answers. Why was he helping her?

Axel's gaze questioned Roxas. "What are we going to tell Xemnas?"

"He doesn't need to know."

Axel seemed to disagree with this but he allowed Roxas to make the decision. "Alright, but if he finds out, it's all on you." He shrugged.

Roxas didn't seem to care. He looked at Naminé. "Let's go." He nodded towards the door.

Slowly, stiffly, Naminé followed him. "Thank-"

"Don't mention it," he interrupted curtly, not sparing her a glance as they started down the stairs.

Head bowed, Naminé followed. Once in the hallway, she walked in between Axel and Roxas – a completely different formation as compared to when they were heading to the roof. Maybe they feared that she would fly off the handle again. Naminé sighed with dejection.

She glanced at Axel. There was a small scratch on his face. "Sorry about… your face," she mumbled.

He turned to her and to her surprise, he smirked. "Sorry about yours too, kid."

She would have laughed. But when her lips turned up even the slightest, the right side of her face burned. She'd forgotten that Axel had hit her.

Soon, Axel turned down another hallway, saying something about seeing her tomorrow for training. Roxas and Naminé walked together as they reached another hallway.

She expected silence.

"Who were you talking to?" Roxas asked suddenly.

She looked at him and found that his eyes were already on her. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I'm talking about."

She did know what he was talking about. He wondered who she had been screaming at when she was addressing the voice on the roof. "…Axel," she answered lamely.

"Cut the bullshit, Naminé."

She averted her eyes from his hardened ones. She opened her mouth to speak and – realizing she had nothing to say – quickly closed it. She felt him watching her. Trying to ignore the pressure of his gaze, she remained silent.

"You're not going to tell me." The frustrated observation tumbled from Roxas's mouth. She refused to look at him. He continued. "I could tell Xemnas or Vexen and they would surely get it out of you, you know."

"But you wouldn't tell them," she voiced her thoughts. He didn't answer. She could feel frustration radiating off him in waves. Almost to her door…

Suddenly she remembered something. "Oh!" she exclaimed as she stepped into her room. She spun towards him. He remained in the hallway. "I forgot…" she sucked in a breath, "Look, about last night, I'm-"

He slammed the door in her face.

"…sorry," she mumbled the last part. She stood there for a few seconds, feeling as if she hadn't been alone in ages. She didn't know what to do with herself. She felt a pang in her face where Axel hit her, and she made her way to the bathroom mirror.

Her eyes widened at her reflection. She was a mess. Her hair was all over the place, the right side of her face bruised, and scratches and dirt littered her pale skin. Her arm had not been re-bandaged – an ugly red mark that would scar glared at her. She looked like she had been through hell and back.

Wasting no time, she showered and dressed herself with clothes that had been provided for her. She glanced at the clock: 2:23pm. Her body felt as if had been awake for days.

She collapsed on her bed and fell into a deep sleep.

**xx**

"Uh… hello?"

Someone poked her. Twice. Three times.

Naminé moaned, half-asleep. "Five more minutes, Cloud…" She was facing the wall, away from the intruder.

"Cloud?" a male voice mumbled in confusion.

Naminé turned and slowly cracked open an eye. The blonde standing there definitely wasn't her brother. She shot up in surprise.

"Whoa there." The guy raised his arms in a universal _I come in peace _gesture.

"Who are you?" Naminé's voice cracked from recently awakening.

The guy grinned and did something strange with his hands, as if he didn't know where to put them, before settling them on his waist. "I'm Demyx," he stated energetically.

Naminé observed his all-black attire. It seemed to contrast his youthful vibe.

"What… are you doing here?" she asked hesitantly, groggily.

"Takin' you to the labs." He grinned and extended a hand for her to take.

He didn't seem threatening. In fact, he seemed like the most normal one she'd encountered in this damn place. She took his hand and he helped her up.

She glanced at the clock. 10:31pm. "How come it always has to be so late?" She tried not to sound like she was complaining.

Demyx shrugged. "Beats me. Vexen's just a creepy old guy who-" he stopped and revised, "-er, Number Four just likes to do work… late?" he finished pathetically.

Naminé smiled in amusement at his slip. "He is pretty creepy," she muttered, and Demyx scratched the back of his head sheepishly. Testing his bounds, she asked, "Hey, do you know how long I've been here?"

Demyx seemed surprised by her question. "You don't know?"

She shrugged, slightly embarrassed. "I haven't been keeping track…"

Demyx thought, tapping his chin and looking up as they walked. "I believe four weeks."

Naminé came to an abrupt halt. "Four?" she repeated, forcing herself not to shriek the word.

Demyx backtracked. He waved his hands out in front of him. "Hey, don't ask me! I don't keep track well, or at least that's what they tell me," he mused.

"Oh man…" Naminé groaned. Four weeks. She thought it had been two, maybe less. She had been here a _month_.

Away from her brother _a month._

Out of school _a month_.

Locked in this building for _an entire month_.

Naminé had to focus on keeping up with Demyx, her thoughts slowing down her pace. Demyx noticed her state and tried to offer words of sympathy. "Well, umm… It could… er, I mean. Yeah." It didn't work out very well.

Naminé tried not to think about it. She'd probably end up in tears if she did. She changed the subject. "Is it okay if I wear this to the labs?" She gestured towards her plain white T-shirt and shorts.

Demyx shrugged. "It's just Vexen," he responded, as if that explained everything. Compared to the other members, Demyx clearly had no problem speaking his mind. As he realized his most recent slip, he spoke again. "I mean, yes, Number Four will just be doing standard procedures… or something," he trailed of helplessly.

Naminé giggled. Her hand shot to her mouth in surprise. She had _laughed_. She had hardly laughed during her entire stay here. Before she could think more of it, they arrived at the lab. The cold metal door greeted them, followed by a naturally wide-eyed man.

"Ah, hello again, Naminé." Vexen didn't even look at Demyx. "You look… like you've been training hard."

Naminé knew he was referring to her banged up appearance. A shower hadn't washed away bruises and scratches. And burns, she noted resentfully.

She noticed Demyx was inching his way out. She wanted to tell him to wait, to stay, but to her surprise, Vexen did. "Oh, Number Nine. Take this to the leader, please." Vexen extended papers out to Demyx.

Demyx took hold of them. "See ya later, Naminé!" He saluted before disappearing through the doorway.

Gulping, Naminé looked back to Vexen.

"Let's get started, shall we?"

**xx**

"And this?"

Vexen used a pointer to indicate another shaped blob on a poster.

"Grass," Naminé answered evenly. They had been doing this for thirty minutes. He would point at some black shape on paper, and she would tell him the first thing that came to mind. She felt like a patient in an insane asylum.

To her surprise, being in the lab alone with Vexen wasn't that bad. He was strange, but without his colleagues around, he seemed more at ease; as if he didn't have to impress or explain to anyone. Luckily, he was still going over basic tests with Naminé. The "easy procedures," he had called them.

"And this?" He pointed to another blob with the pointer.

"… That one reminds me of Heaven," Naminé concluded.

Vexen stopped in his tracks. "Heaven?" he asked.

Naminé nodded, staring at him with slight confusion. He hadn't done a double take on any of her other answers.

"Why do you say that?" he prompted.

Naminé shrugged. "It was just the first thing that came to mind. Why?"

Vexen looked back to the shape on the poster. "No… No reason." Clearly, there was a reason. "That's enough for tonight." He condensed his pointer and started gathering up his equipment.

Pleasantly surprised, Naminé stood up and stretched. She yawned. Her 8-hour nap hadn't exactly shaken off her prior exhaustion. Absent-mindedly, she walked towards the door.

"Wait. I'll need to walk you back," Vexen mumbled as he shoved some equipment into a bag.

Naminé halted at the door and waited, watching him. She knew her way back to her room at this point. But then – they probably didn't allow her to navigate the building unaccompanied for fear that she would try to escape. Pondering the thought, Naminé wondered if there _was_ a way to escape. She would take her chances if she found one, she knew. They seemed to know that too.

Vexen soon finished, and the two made their way back to Naminé's room. They walked in a comfortable silence. Naminé was still creeped out by Vexen, but in a strange way, she no longer felt uncomfortable around him after the endless hours they had spent together in the lab. She didn't try to make small talk, though. He seemed tired and preoccupied.

Once in her room, Naminé flopped onto her bed. She briefly remembered wondering when she would see Roxas again before the darkness overtook her.

**A/N: Hi readers. Hihihihihihihihihihihihihihi hihihihi. **

**Shit. I just realized I passed 20k words! Yeah! *celebratory dance***

**Also, I'm writing another story. I'm going to try and keep this one priority – I started this one first – but the other one is really coming along nicely. It's a Vampire Diaries fic, but you don't need to know the series to read it. It's AU like this one. But really, check out the first chapter. I'm proud of it and you don't need to know _anything_ about the series for the first chapter. Have I sold you on it yet? :) Until next time, readers!**


	8. Mental Grounds

"_You can be absolutely certain that when you feel you are being most unfairly tested, you are being prepared for great achievement_." –Napoleon Hill

– _**Chapter Eight: Mental Grounds **– _

_Floating, again. Always floating and drifting. Within the confines of her mind, the white clouds engulfed her body once more. _

_Something was different this time. She sensed a change that made her fingertips tingle. She was in that familiar dream state again, but something was off – the vibe was tarnished, almost unnoticeably. _

"_Hello?" Naminé called gently. She didn't know why she called out. Usually, she didn't feel pressed to talk in this familiar dream-like place. _

"_Naminé," the voice responded. The gentle voice that often visited her. The voice was angry with her last time – this slow realization washed over Naminé like a stream of water. She closed her eyes. The water switched between refreshing and too **cold**. Naminé let the feeling wash over her features._

"_Yes," Naminé mumbled inaudibly. A feather-light silence spread through the atmosphere. She sighed contentedly. It was bliss, being so pleasantly unaware. She recognized the dream-land she was in, always in, but a fog curtained over her mind. _

"_Do you have anything you'd like to ask, Naminé?" It was more of a statement. _

_Naminé thought. Slowly, a feeling came to mind, and then a thought was produced. "Oh, yes. I have a question. How did you know I have a question?" she inquired curiously. She cracked open her eyes slightly. _

"_What would you like to know?" The voice was like music to her ears; light, humming. _

"_Why do you talk to me when we're here?" Naminé closed her eyes again. _

"_And where are we, Naminé?" the voice prompted her. _

_Naminé scrunched her eyebrows together. "We're…" Naminé realized she didn't know where they were. "We're…" she tried again, but nothing came to her. "Where are we?" she whispered to herself. She'd be more concerned if she didn't feel so relaxed already. The calmness in her wouldn't budge..._

_The voice picked up her silent words. "We are in the In-between, Naminé." _

_Confusion washed over the youthful girl. So that was the name of the place Naminé always found herself in: the In-between. "What do you mean?" Naminé asked. She remained floating horizontally, eyes closed. _

"_I can explain more to you once you realize…" the voice informed, sounding distant. _

"_Realize?" Naminé mumbled tiredly. _

_The voice remained quiet, as if giving Naminé time to think, before responding once more. "I'm going to ask you some questions, Naminé, and as you think about the answer to them, don't panic or change what you're doing. Just remain as you are and let relaxation flow through your body. Okay?" _

_Naminé was already calm. She agreed, not giving much thought to the statement. She trusted this voice or person, after all. She gave a small nod, keeping her eyes gently shut. _

"_Where are we right now, Naminé?" the voice asked, echoing. _

_Was this a trick question? "… The In-between," Naminé repeated the voice's answer back to her. Apparently, that was where they were. _

_The voice was not fazed. "And how did you get here?" _

_Naminé tried to recall. "I woke up here, I guess." The calmness of atmosphere started to fade. Naminé felt this in her chest. _

"_Then what was the last thing you did before you went to sleep?" _

_Another question Naminé did not have the answer to – and she knew that she should. "I… I…" She could not remember for the life of her. As she tried to recall the answer to such a simple question, she heard a high-frequency buzz start softly in the background. _

"_Don't think too much, Naminé. The answer is simple," the voice prompted gently. _

_This calmed Naminé. She began to think more clearly. She took a deep breath. "Before I went to sleep, I… I was at the labs with Vexen?" It came out as a question to herself. _

"_Good. And you're here now because…" the voice trailed off, cueing Naminé to fill in the rest. _

_Naminé thought hard and everything became painfully clear around her. The cloudy whiteness around her started to take on a sharpness in its features. The high-frequency noise returned. Her head started to pound slightly. _

"_Calm down, Naminé: accept whatever you're thinking of." The voice. _

_The noise faded back down and the whiteness returned to its comforting cloudy appearance. Naminé inhaled deeply, her mind clearing again. She came to the realization. "I'm dreaming?" she asked. Her eyes widened. _

"_Yes; calm down, though." The voice sensed her excitement. Naminé tried to obey. "You will wake up if you think too much about the fact that you're asleep." _

_With that statement, the buzzing noise returned. Naminé had always realized in the waking world that this was a dream; however, while having the dream, she could never place a finger on the fact that she was dreaming. Or at least, she had never recognized the fact with such clarity. It was a new experience. _

_She felt excited, no longer so relaxed. Energy jolted through her fingertips. "Am I waking up?" Naminé panicked as the buzzing noise increased. _

"_Stop thinking," the voice ordered softly. Accordingly, the buzzing faded again and Naminé nodded. She tried to slow down her thoughts to the way they were before she realized she was dreaming._

_The atmosphere returned to comfortable levels and Naminé felt her breathing even out. "How come you mostly visit me in my dreams?" Naminé asked evenly._

_She realized that she never had the chance to talk to the voice casually. She always had a sleepy curtain over her mind, or she was in the middle of a chaotic breakdown when the voice reached her. This was unadulterated one-on-one conversation. It was caught perfectly in the mix between urgency and ease. _

"_This is my way of speaking to your subconscious, Naminé. Through your dreams." _

_Naminé thought of what Vexen had said: that her powers were controlled by her subconscious. That they were trying to make her powers a conscious thing… The man must be smarter than Naminé gave him credit for. His explanations often matched up with those of the voice inside her head. _

"…_But aren't I conscious right now?" Naminé asked. _

"_Your subconscious mind… is conscious," the voice explained with finality. _

_Naminé laid there dumbly. "Oh." She didn't completely understand, but figured it wasn't a priority at the moment. She could analyze later. She realized this was a chance to ask all of her important questions; no one else seemed to have answers for her. She tackled the biggest one first. "What is… going on with me?" she asked hesitantly. She didn't know how else to word the question. _

"_As in, your powers. You want to know why you have them," the voice stated, echoing. _

_Naminé swallowed heavily and nodded. "Yes," she croaked in response. _

"_It is a long story, Naminé, and I'm afraid I don't have time to explain right now." The voice sounded remorseful. _

_Naminé felt her face fall. This person – whoever she was – often felt like her only source of comfort. "Why don't we have time?" _

_A buzzing noise returned and Naminé had a sinking feeling. She began to suspect the reason for why they were running out of time… _

"_We'll talk more, soon. Then I can give you more answers. For now, listen to me," the voice told. It was fading away. _

"_Wait! Who are you?" Naminé cried, struggling to sit up as she floated. She could barely budge. _

"_Naminé." She heard another different and more distant voice. This one was male._

_The soothing female voice said something, but her words began to overlap with a new male voice that Naminé didn't recognize. Naminé felt confusion wash over her features. _

_Apparently, this amused the voice. Naminé managed to catch parting words. In a smiling tone, it said "Someone is waking you up right now. Can't you tell?" _

_Instantly, everything went black. _

Naminé gasped and shot up into sitting position, finding herself in her bed. Her hand clutched her chest as she breathed heavily. She felt as if she were just coming up for air after being underwater for so long.

"Bad dream?" someone mused. It was the male voice that began overlapping with the dream-voice.

She whipped her head in the direction of the sound and met eyes with Axel. He stood next to her bed with his hands crossed over his chest. He looked smug.

"No," she groaned and sunk back underneath the covers, pulling them up to cover her head entirely. She knew what his presence meant.

"Yes," he countered, his voice clear. She didn't hear him move.

After hiding from reality – or rather, Axel – for a few more seconds, she peeked the top half of her head out from under the blankets.

"Are we… training today?" she croaked, watching him with dread.

He laughed. "Oh please, Naminé; don't mask your excitement," he answered sarcastically, putting a hand over his chest. "Besides, we're not training today. We're doing something else."

Naminé felt her face light up. She fought back a smile. "We are?" she asked, sitting up again.

"No."

Axel smirked as Naminé's face fell instantly.

"Mean," she accused before shuffling out of bed, shooting him a glare. "So we are training?" she asked hopelessly to verify.

She headed towards a cabinet that held some feminine clothes she'd been wearing over the past few weeks. They'd been provided to her. She didn't know who brought them, but she didn't ask any questions. They weren't half-bad, anyways. Mostly jeans and plain shirts, with the occasional white dress or shorts. Some sweaters scattered the drawers. She didn't know who attended to this, but she always had a supply of clean clothes.

"Yup," he answered, sounding nearly chirpy. Of course, who wouldn't have fun hurling fireballs at a clumsy target.

Naminé grimaced. "Okay, well I need to change, so-"

"I'll be right outside your door," he winked at her, finishing her sentence smoothly.

The door closed behind him and Naminé hastily threw on some clothes. She ran a hand through her hair in a poor attempt to make it presentable.

She swung open the door to find Axel leaning against the wall opposite of her. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be…" she muttered.

They began walking down the corridor. She felt him grinning next to her at her misery. She was indeed sulking — she hated training.

"How's the arm?" he prompted, glancing at it.

She cradled it, squeezing it lightly. It stung, but not nearly as bad as yesterday.

Axel noticed her face flinch. "We should probably change the bandages," he suggested. "Down to pay Zexion a visit?"

"Yes," she nodded eagerly. Anything but training.

Reading this on her face, Axel said nonchalantly, "Oh my. I suppose we'll just have to push training back an hour."

Naminé felt as if a brick fell on her head. Was he _trying_ to torture her?

After more twists and turns down the hallway, they were in Zexion's room. Or a room where Zexion often busied himself, Naminé supposed.

Like last time, he was reading a book. And also like last time, he seemed annoyed at their appearance.

Uncomfortably, Naminé apologized. She held out her arm. "Would you mind changing the bandages on this, please?"

He nodded, and hastily replaced the cloth on her arm. Sadly, her visit to Zexion had not procrastinated her training with Axel.

"Okay, I guess it's time to go…" Naminé mumbled quietly to herself, turning to Axel. They headed towards the roof, and Naminé prepared for another fiery hell. Literally.

**xx**

"I want to try something different," Axel stopped abruptly. Moments ago, he had been hurling fireballs at the small blonde.

Naminé breathed heavily. "Wha… What?" Her hands rested on her knees as she crouched in exhaustion.

"Instead of this crazy method…" He put his finger up to his chin in thought. "We'll try something slightly more sadistic." He seemed to enjoy the joke at Naminé's expense.

She blanched. What could be more sadistic than hurling fire at someone?

"Try to find a way out of this. I think you can do it," Axel nodded confidently. Without warning, a circle of fire shot up around Naminé. It wasn't too small in diameter, but the flames were high and thick. They started at the ground and went up at least teen feet. She could barely decipher Axel through the fiery orange.

They were loud, too. Crackling. "Uh, Axel?" she shouted to him unsurely. "This better be some kind of sick joke."

She had a feeling it wasn't. And then, she realized: the flames were _closing in on her_. Slowly but steadily, they crawled towards her. She felt the heat increase on her skin.

He wouldn't burn her to death, would he? Although the idea was crazy, in the dire and stressful situation, anything felt like a possibility.

"Axel!" she yelled again, frozen to the spot. Her voice was strained this time. "I don't have any tricks for my sleeve up this – really, I don't!" She tried to speak casually and not show her growing hysterical fear.

The flames came closer and closer, and she desperately raked her mind for a way of action. She tried to access her power, but didn't know _how_. She could only think of it, and hope that it would come to her. It never did. Before, whenever she wielded her power, _it_ seemed to use her. She rarely had control; it always felt as if it took over her body.

It didn't look like it was coming to save her this time. The level of anxiety she now felt usually triggered it, but she received zilch.

Her skin felt unbearably hot. She started to sweat, panting. She could barely breathe as she pulled at her collar. The flames were too close. They were too close.

She shielded her face, flinching back from the blinding flames. She spun around, dizzy and starting to feel disoriented. She searched for an opening – a way out.

"Axel!" she cried. She couldn't breathe!

Black dots started clouding her vision. All she could hear were the flames, roaring and crackling still – laughing at her.

A scream tried to rip itself from her throat, but it came out as a pathetic series of coughs. She couldn't straighten out her thoughts as her mind blurred.

"A…ax…" she huffed out. Everything was fading. Was this the end?

She fell to a knee, gripping her head weakly. Suddenly, when she thought she was inhaling her last breath, the flames dissipated. Air rushed her, and although it wasn't cold outside, the air felt like ice on her previously burning skin. She relished in it, gasping like a fish out of water. Her eyes shook as they stared at the pavement in front of her. She could barely see. Her eyes watered from the smoke that had previously surrounded her.

"Well, I guess that didn't work out like I thought it would." She barely registered Axel's too-casual voice.

"No, I don't think it did." She heard another familiar voice. Someone else was with them now: Roxas.

She moaned and brought herself to lie on her stomach on the floor. She felt as if she just ran a marathon. Her cells needed oxygen – especially those in her brain. Her thoughts felt sluggish and she desperately waited to cool down. Her breathing slowly started returning to a normal rhythm.

As she came back to reality, she realized with more clarity that Roxas was now with them. She felt slightly irritated that he was seeing her this way, on the floor weak and exhausted. But she was more consumed in her recovery, basking in the fresh air and appreciating it in a way she never had before.

Finally, she turned her head towards the two voices and opened her eyes. The world met her, turned on its side. She saw Axel and Roxas horizontally. They seemed to be waiting on her.

She breathed heavily still. "You… you-" She held up a shaky hand and pointed it at Axel, infuriated.

He laid his hands flat on his chest in an innocent gesture. "_I_ was trying to help you. Never were you ever in any real danger."

She narrowed her eyes at him and worked herself into standing up. Her legs wobbled slightly, but she had recovered considerably. She swore she could smell burning cloth and thought she heard the remnants of sizzling fire at the tips of her hairs.

She strode towards him, pointing a finger accusingly in his face. "And _what_ was that supposed to accomplish?" she growled.

She could nearly see her reflection in his eyes. Smudges of dirt marred her face and her hair was in disarray.

He took a step back, creating distance between them, and waved his hands in his effort to explain. "Well, _last time_ I almost killed you, we brought out your power—"

"So you did try to kill me!" she accused, waving her hands wildly in the air.

Axel frowned. "I didn't _try_ to kill you last time, I said I _almost _killed you," he clarified.

Naminé fumed. "You—"

"Hey," Roxas cut her off. For a second, she had forgotten he was there. She felt slightly embarrassed at her outburst in front of him. "You know, your eyes _are_ glowing a little," he pointed out as if to prove that Axel's stunt accomplished something.

Hearing this, Axel leaned forward in interest. "Oh, hey. What do you know? They are." He seemed pleased with himself.

She huffed and stepped a few feet away from them. She crossed her arms and stared out over the horizon. "Well, what good does that do me?" she spat in annoyance, turning her nose up in the air stubbornly. Her skin still felt annoyingly hot.

"I'm just saying," Roxas stated in a contrasting monotone, unaffected by the waves of irritation radiating off the other blonde.

Naminé bit her lip and remained quiet. She glared at him, and the two fell into a staring competition. His gaze was apathetic and uncaring; hers was growing fierier by the second. It was clear he was winning.

"Think quick!"

Naminé heard Axel's voice, which was soon followed by a familiar _sizzling_ sound. A fireball. She shrieked in surprise and rolled to the side out of pure survival instinct. She landed on her wounded arm and let out a hiss. She instantly shot up, more angry than hurt or afraid.

She started striding towards Axel. "I'm going to ki-"

She watched him form another fireball and throw it at her. Infuriated, she ducked. Once in sitting position, she felt a shift. Something was taking over and she recognized it. Her mind seemed to go momentarily blank and her body moved on its own accord. She cranked back her arm and in a blur, a bright yellow streak that originated from her hand was soaring towards Axel.

He ducked, his mouth slightly parted in surprise. Naminé watched the blur of light fly over him and hit the door in the distance behind him. It reflected off and into the sky with a _pew_ sound, fading into invisibility just as a balloon does when the string is released in open air.

The shock at what she had just done was quickly replaced by prior indignation. She stood up and threw her arms down. She felt as if every part of her was glowing. "_I. Am. Done!"_ Her hands balled into fist as the words flew out of her mouth.

Roxas looked torn between mild surprise and wanting to say something. Axel stood similarly, staring at her in awe. Before they could say anything, she spun on her heel and strode towards the door. She marched in between and past them. If one of them touched her, she'd explode. She felt it and believed they did, too. She opened the door and slammed it behind her.

No one chased after her this time.

**A/N: It's happened; I've run into the damned writer's block. Well, that's not true. But the words are falling onto the paper more slowly than before. **

**Review, please? :D **


	9. (Ab) Normalities

"_The great art of life is sensation, to feel that we exist, even in pain._" Lord Byron

_**- Chapter 9: (Ab) Normalities -**_

Adrenaline pumped through Naminé's veins as she stomped down the stairs and into the hallway. She felt like she could do anything – she felt powerful. She glanced down at one of her hands and realized that she _was_ glowing in a way she hadn't before; a faint yellow engulfed her body.

She felt high. That was the only way she could describe it. She felt powerful.

She finally made a sharp turn into one of the hallways. It wasn't her hallway, she recognized. However, she felt abnormally courageous and she was fairly certain that this time around, Axel and Roxas wouldn't retrieve her so quickly.

She set foot into the blue carpet of the unfamiliar hallway and continued marching. Further down the hall, she saw a figure emerge from around a corner. The man had dark hair and he was now heading her way. She gasped and backed up into an indent that led to a door. She peeked her head around the small corner, assuring that he hadn't noticed her.

He hadn't; however, he was striding down the hall towards her. She watched him. Although she still felt strength radiating from her skin, the man was foreign and his features were frightful. A large scar marred his face, dark and jagged and through his eye. Naminé grimaced at the site, gulping audibly.

_What do I do? _She wondered frantically. She fidgeted and found herself wishing she'd remained with Roxas and Axel.

The man had gotten closer than she realized. Before she could formulate a plan, she leaned against the door and sucked in, praying that he would pass by without noticing her. He was getting closer… closer…

She squeezed her eyes shut—only fate could help her now.

As she leaned against the door, she heard a sound from behind her that sounded like a _click_. She felt the door give a little and realized that the _click_ had been the doorknob turning: someone was opening the door she was leaning on!

Her eyes widened, but it was too late. The door swung open and she tumbled backwards into someone with a loud _crash_.

She heard an "oof," as she ran into a hard body. She felt an arm wrap around her midsection to steady her. She tore away from the stranger and turned around to find a man with pink hair and sharp features. She recognized him as someone she had seen in the building during the first few days of her stay.

She stared at him accusingly. He had destroyed her attempts to remain inconspicuous. Speaking of which, she whipped her head towards the dark-haired man she previously hid from. He was now standing next to her, arms folded over his chest as he glared down at her. His eyes were deep and empty.

"Why, hello," a deep, melodic voice greeted. It was the pink-haired man. She set her eyes on him again, realizing that she was surrounded.

"Oh, how interesting—" he continued. "Those glowing eyes again. I remember seeing them once before, but I don't believe they were quite this bright," he observed. He reached up and tried to move pieces of Naminé's hair out of her face. She recoiled violently.

"Who are you?" she demanded, faking courage and crossing her arms over her chest. She glanced down at her limbs. The new glow on her skin had faded along with her audacity.

The man smirked as if enjoying a private joke. "Marluxia. I suppose you wouldn't know," he mused.

"Why are you wandering the halls unaccompanied?" a gruff voice to the right of Naminé cut through their conversation.

It was the scarred man. She whipped her head towards him anxiously, feeling cowed by his silent intensity. She wasn't as afraid of the one named Marluxia as she was this man. Marxluxia's demeanor, although off and likely faux, was welcoming. He posed no immediate threat; the other man was the opposite. His vacant eyes promised suffering. Naminé shivered.

"I, um, I…" she sputtered, trying to come up with an explanation. "…I j-just finished training. I was going back to my room," she tried desperately.

"Your room isn't on this floor. But I think we both know that." His eyes simmered into hers before he snatched her arm roughly. Naminé yelped in surprise.

"Xigbar, don't be so cold," Marluxia scolded, though it was clear the other man had more authority.

"Number Eleven, take her to the labs," he ordered, straight-faced as he pushed Naminé towards Marluxia. "And then find Number Thirteen. I believe Xemnas made him responsible for her." The man appeared extremely displeased with Naminé's free roaming of the building.

Roxas was responsible for her? Naminé scrunched her eyebrows and wiggled away from the man named Xigbar. Suddenly, Marluxia grasped her and started walking down the hall, back the way Naminé had come from.

Marluxia hummed quietly, despite the fact that Naminé could feel Xigbar behind them burning holes into their backs with his eyes. She didn't know how Marluxia was unaware of – or simply ignored – the feeling.

She ripped her arm away from his grip. "I can walk myself, you know," she tried to say haughtily, but her words came out as a mumble. The power she once felt radiating through her veins, giving her mental and physical strength, was diminishing if not already depleted.

Marluxia merely glanced at her. "I know."

He stared at her for a few seconds. Naminé glanced away. His gaze was unsettling and she couldn't read him.

Marluxia continued. "So, Naminé, have you enjoyed your stay here? Our castle is quite welcoming, I'm sure," he said, sprinkling playful sarcasm over bitter words.

Naminé heard Xigbar give a grunt of disapproval towards Marxulia's tone.

Naminé was at a complete loss for how to engage in casual conversation given the circumstances, much less answer the question. "Um… it's been nice," she answered helplessly.

As she heard herself speak, she swallowed heavily. Surely, he had to know that she didn't reside in the building by her own will; that she had been stripped of that over a month ago. She bit her lip as emotion filled her. She did want _out_; she just didn't know how to escape.

A sense of doom settled over her like a heavy cloud as such thoughts filled her head. She'd been so caught up in the impossible – like her powers and the Organization's – that she hadn't thought of home in a while.

She glanced at Marluxia. He was watching her silently. She couldn't help but feel as if he asked the question with the intent of getting under her skin.

Soon they turned into the stairwell, only to hear foot steps descending from above. The footsteps sounded closer and closer until finally, the two parties intersected. Suddenly, Roxas turned a flight of stairs and came into view. He laid eyes on Naminé first, then the two men with her.

Naminé noticed that Roxas was much more stoic in front of these men. He composed himself and nodded at them. "Number Two. Number Eleven," he addressed.

She saw Xigbar nod out of the corner of her eye. He remained straight-faced and formal, yet irritation plagued his posture.

"And why, I must ask, is—" Xigbar started, his voice tense.

"I let her go for five minutes. And if you don't mind, we were in the middle of training," Roxas interrupted as if he were irritated with them and not the other way around. They didn't seem to phase him the way they did Naminé.

He approached the trio and grabbed Naminé's arm. She went willingly, nearly grateful that Roxas had found her. She shifted uncomfortably as she left the scarred and pink-haired man behind, feeling their gazes bore into her back – it was unsettling.

"Number Thirteen. Take her to the labs. I believe that is the better course of action in this situation," Xigbar stated tightly from behind them. It was clearly an order and not a suggestion. Roxas ignored the man, walking up the stairs with Naminé trailing behind him. Xigbar, annoyed with the lack of respect, added, "After all, you're not proving to be too capable of watching over a teenage girl," he spat.

The man was clearly trying to get a rise out of Roxas. Naminé tensed, waiting for her counterpart to react. Her eyes widened slightly when he merely laughed, a melodic sound that echoed through the stairwell. She realized she had never heard him laugh, let alone express much joy. She soon found the corners of her own mouth turning up at the situation.

She stumbled as she glanced back at the older two. Xigbar looked irritated; Marluxia was smirking, as if amused and unaffected – but he didn't seem to be laughing at the same joke. His eyes became serious as they pierced into Naminé's. She shivered and turned back around. There was something disconcerting about him.

The pair reached a door and finally escaped the suffocating and frigid stairwell. Naminé realized they were on a floor that she had never set foot on. She suddenly remembered that she had fled training and fear followed: what if Roxas was taking her to do something _more_ unpleasant as punishment?

All of her gall had left her when she had run into Marluxia and Xigbar. The anger that gave her strength and courage was gone; she nervously fidgeted. She spared a side glance at Roxas, turning her head as little as possible in an effort to not let him catch her glance.

He had released her arm and now they walked side by side. Was he upset with her? He didn't seem to be… Her eyebrows scrunched together. She didn't understand.

They walked for a few seconds in silence. His face was blank – she couldn't read it. This made her more anxious.

She jumped when he suddenly whipped his head towards her, annoyed with her stare. "What?" he demanded abruptly.

Naminé blinked. "Where are we going?" she asked timidly.

Something like amusement sparked in Roxas's eyes, but otherwise his face remained the same. "You don't seem so brave anymore," he muttered.

Naminé concluded that he didn't seem mad. Or at least, not too mad. She ignored his comment. "Where—"

"The kitchen," he responded suddenly, ripping his eyes away from her.

"Kitchen? Why—"

"I'm hungry."

Naminé let out a huff of frustration. At the mention of food, her stomach growled – she realized she was starving. She placed a hand over her belly and glanced at Roxas, wondering if he'd heard.

He was looking at her. "You seem to be, too."

Naminé fought the blush that was spreading its wings across her cheeks. "Well, obviously. Axel almost burned to a crisp!"

Roxas shrugged nonchalantly. "He tapped into a new ability today. You should be thanking him."

Naminé sputtered in frustration. "I-I'm the one- he didn't—"

Roxas peered at her again from the corners of his eyes. "That wasn't half-bad, by the way."

All the anger left Naminé in a _woosh_, replaced by confusion and then shyness. "T-thanks." She wrung her hands together. It was the closest thing to a compliment she had ever received from him.

Finally, they reached the kitchen, and Naminé realized she _had_ been on this floor. It was connected to a living room by double doors. The living room was the room Roxas had taken her to when her eyes first glowed, where he had hazardously thrown her on the floor in front of everyone. Last time, the doors to the kitchen had been closed.

Naminé's eyes widened when she realized that people were lounging in the conjoining room. Some of them she recognized, some she didn't; she instantly became nervous. Upon hearing their entrance, a few of them looked. Others didn't spare them the time of day, seeming not to care – she was thankful to dodge their attention.

She recognized a face as she locked eyes with one of them.

"Hey, Naminé!" Demyx called, waving sporadically. Naminé cringed as he brought attention to her. Upon hearing her name, those who hadn't bothered looking before now pierced her with their unwavering and sharp eyes. Even Roxas was looking at her as he made his way around the kitchen, gathering things.

"Hi, Demyx," she choked out, waving back half-heartedly before hurrying to Roxas's side and facing away from the room. Her back burned with their stares.

"You met Demyx?" Roxas asked, his voice low enough for only Naminé's ears.

"Yeah, why?" she responded.

He ignored her question and she let out a frustrated sigh. After a few seconds, Naminé peeked over her shoulder to see if anyone was still watching her. Nobody was. Her shoulders dropped with relief.

Without anything else to do, she settled on watching him.

He was making a sandwich. The sight was nearly comical; big, bad Roxas, clad in black, making a sandwich. Naminé fought off a grin.

When he was finished, he slid the bag of bread and other contents down the counter towards her without so much as a glance. He leaned against the fridge.

"Hurry up," he said gruffly before taking a bite.

Naminé glared at him – he hadn't even given her a second to start – and made her own sandwich. She was quick because she was starving; not because he'd told her to hurry. Or at least, that's what she told herself.

Roxas finished eating and settled on intently watching her as she ate her own sandwich. She chewed uncomfortably, becoming annoyed when she realized he was staring to make her eat faster.

"Jerk," she muttered.

They soon deserted the kitchen. Naminé was glad for it, too. She didn't like being close to any of the other members, especially the ones she didn't know. Well, besides Axel and Demyx. They were okay.

"Where are we going?" Naminé asked, keeping stride with the taller blonde.

"That labs." He didn't look at her.

Naminé frowned. She thought that he was disobeying Xigbar's orders – in fact, during their adventure in the kitchen, she began to subconsciously hope that maybe she would enjoy a day of normalcy.

She should have known better. Her silence expressed her disappointment. Not that Roxas would care, she knew.

"You know, we don't _have _to go to the labs," she sighed in slight exasperation. He didn't respond and after a brief moment, she continued. "I'm not supposed to go there until nighttime. We could keep training," she suggested.

He didn't respond still. She crossed her arms over her chest, feeling a rushing anger return. How come she never had _any_ say in the matter? She was sure Roxas could pull some strings to make her life easier: he simply refused to.

Naminé felt word vomit coming on again. "Why do you listen to them, anyways? In fact, what the hell is even going on here?" she demanded, addressing the situation as a whole.

She watched Roxas's mouth tighten into a hard line. She waited for an answer. At this point, she wanted to get a rise out of him. "You let them walk all over you. It's like you're their little bitch—"

"Naminé," Roxas interrupted in an unnaturally calm voice. He stopped walking, and she halted with him. "Do you know what I did to that man on Destiny Islands when we first met?"

Their eyes met with a _clash_. His aura had changed completely as his eyes darkened, but Naminé refused to be cowed by him. He stepped towards her and she refused to step back. He brought his hand up next to him, and both of them stared at it. Dark energy emerged, its blackness unforgiving. Naminé could practically feel its threat radiating in waves towards her.

"I took the life right out of him."

The words echoed down the hallway with finality. She tore her eyes away from the dark energy and looked up to find Roxas staring coldly at her.

Goosebumps emerged on her arms, but an overwhelming and sickening feeling washed away her momentary fear. It was that anger again, uncontrollable and thick and running through her veins. Her throat constricted; she felt like she was helpless to its onset.

"_The anger… it's a product of misusing your powers.__"_

She heard the dream voice echo in her thoughts, recalling the words it had spoken to her the last time she had a serious outburst.

Her eyes _were_ glowing. Maybe that was all it took – simply being tapped into her powers could trigger such nasty emotions.

Naminé's thought process was quickly interrupted.

"Do you think that we are equals?" Roxas asked menacingly.

She realized that this last question wasn't rhetorical. Suddenly, she had no words left in her.

Which is why she was surprised when she heard someone say, "We will be. And when we are, I'm coming after you."

She heard the phrase and realized that it was _her _voice that had issued the threat. Her hand shot up and covered her mouth in horror. Why couldn't she control her temper?

Roxas didn't seem surprised. If he was, he didn't show it; if anything, he still looked infuriated.

The dark swirl in his hand disappeared and he grabbed Naminé's wrist, twisting it behind her and pushing her from behind down the hall. She yelped in pain as her arm bent at an unnatural angle, but Roxas didn't let up. Instead, he continued to stride behind her, forcing her forwards roughly and unceremoniously towards the lab.

"I don't know how it's possible for someone to be as stupid as you," Roxas seethed unforgivingly, his mouth next to her ear. Naminé would be lying if she said that the words didn't pierce through her armor.

"Let me go, Roxas!" she demanded half-heartedly, twisting to get out of his grip as she was forced to stumble down the hallway. He didn't relent, instead tightening his hold.

He came to an abrupt halt in front of the giant metallic door and slammed the buzzer. And then, just like that, he opened up a portal and deserted her.

Naminé watched, her shoulder aching from its previous position. As she watched him step into the portal, anger left her. She wanted to call out for him to wait – she didn't want to be alone – but her thoughts were jumbled. Instead, she was left with her mouth hanging open, now staring at empty space where Roxas stood moments earlier.

Why, why, why, why, why? Why did she lash out? When she first began picking at him, she knew what she was saying and everything was controlled and intentional. As time progressed, it spiralled down into a verbal assault that was as fresh to her ears as to his; she herself didn't know where some of her words came from. Anger completely overtook her.

It was similar to what happened on the roof the other day, except not as severe. It was also identical to what happened last time she lashed out at him. She stared down at her hands. What was going on with her? She wasn't usually such a spiteful person, even given the extreme circumstances.

Naminé tore herself away from her thoughts and focused on waiting for Vexen. Seconds ticked by. What if the scientist wasn't even in there? Then, she was alone...

She was alone! She could go look for an escape! But then, what if she ran into others again? She didn't know if she could afford the risk. But what if this was the only chance she—

The door flung open. In the time Naminé spent sorting out her worries, the golden opportunity had slipped threw her fingers. She mentally sagged her shoulders. This was not proving to be her day.

"Ah, Naminé. I did hear that you would be stopping by – oh, how spectacular. Your eyes are lit – you must be accessing your power," Vexen observed, stepping back hastily and allowing her space to enter. Naminé stared at the opening, distracted by her prior and momentary freedom: why had she let self-doubt win her over?

"Now, now, we don't have time to waste. Your eyes are dimming, your power's fading back into stagnancy. I'm sure that's why that brat took his time getting you here…" Vexen muttered the last part seemingly to himself. "Hurry in, girl." Vexen gestured to the awaiting room.

Naminé entered, feeling like the physical step from the hallway into the room was one step further from freedom.

Vexen rushed to get materials ready. As usual, Naminé didn't recognize half of the instruments he pulled out. She slowly took a seat, watching him warily. She heard him talking – she wasn't sure if his words were directed towards her or if he was simply rambling to himself – as she waited.

"This is a wonderful opportunity. I hear you tap into you powers quite often during training, but those fools haven't brought you here once during such incidents," Vexen huffed, shaking his head in frustrated disapproval. He continued preparing instruments. Naminé listened as they clacked against each other, his movements swift.

"They all believe training to be so important. Well, that's not the case," he said with a _tisk. "_What we can discover – science – will lead us to a world of opportunities. It is the backbone of everything…" Naminé zoned in and out to what he was saying. "… physical power can only go so far, but once… such things will be the key… developmental programs…"

She caught reflection of her golden eyes on a small mirror attached to a cabinet. They caught her by surprise – they always did.

"I did hear you did something quite spectacular today," she heard Vexen say, his tone different on this sentence. She tuned in again. "What was it exactly that you managed to do? I'd like to hear it from your perspective."

She realized he had taken a moment to glance at her and she sat up more attentively. "Oh, um… I'm not really sure what I did." She shrugged helplessly.

"All the more proof that your ability is stranded in your subconscious. Don't worry, Naminé. We will soon change that," Vexen conveyed with confidence.

Naminé wondered if this was the type of thing the voice was talking about in the sense of mishandling her abilities. Being here, in this lab, didn't feel natural; it didn't feel right. Her powers weren't normal, she knew that, but they felt natural when she used them. Well, for the most part. When the voice had accused her of using her powers for the wrong reasons… in those moments, when she had been taken over by anger, using her abilities had felt extremely wrong.

Now, here in the lab, Vexen was figuratively dissecting her abilities. But how could she object? Part of her did want to know more about them – and Vexen seemed to know what he was doing – but another part of her feared the entire thing. The thought hooked into the curtain of her mind and pulled her mood down.

Finally, Vexen was finished. With a bundle of equipment ready in his arms, he turned around – and nearly dropped it all.

"No!" he exclaimed, and Naminé jumped in surprise. "They're gone—your eyes. Damn it all to hell!"

Naminé watched him with wide eyes, slightly fearful towards his outburst. She looked into the small mirror again. Surely enough, her eyes no longer held their shine. Vexen continued to mutter angrily, spinning and slamming the equipment down on the counter. He leaned against it, gripping it tightly. His shoulders tensed and his breathing was heavy.

"Um… we can always do it another time." Naminé tried to comfort him – not for his sake, but for hers. Quite frankly, his unnecessary anger was scaring her. "I'll tell Roxas that next time I tap into—"

He slammed his fists down on the counter and whipped around. Naminé leaned back as far as she could in her chair. He arms flung wildly in the air. "Don't you get it? Those _imbeciles_ are sabotaging my work to make me look bad! How am I supposed to make any progress—" he cut off, too angry to continue forming coherent sentences. The rest came out as a rush of jumbled and frustrated sputtering. Suddenly, he abruptly stopped himself.

Naminé had never seen someone's expression change so quickly in her entire life. "Wait a second…" he trailed off in wonder. "That's it!"

He seemed to have an idea. Naminé coughed nervously. Vexen seemed to be in a crazed, unstoppable frenzy; she feared whatever he had planned now.

Within no time at all, he had a different instrument in his hand. It was a hand-held, distorted looking type of metal bar, with multiple switches on the side. Vexen punched information into it.

Naminé gulped. "What is that?" She had to ask, despite the fact that he seemed completely enthralled by the piece in his hands.

He looked up, as if forgetting she was there. "This?" He smiled madly, and Naminé found herself thoroughly creeped out. "Ah, I guess there's no rush now. I can explain to you as I go."

He began explaining as he fiddled with buttons, adjusting the instrument. Naminé barely understood half of what he was saying.

"…And if you adjust this section—" he gestured to a certain part "—to a fixed frequency, you'll be able to produce a new kind of light – one that I believe is an isomer to the powers you possess… radioactive signals will transcribe…" Naminé couldn't keep up with what he was saying. "No one in the world has discovered this; no one but me. Oh, if only I were still alive, the world would appreciate my discoveries much more than these _fools_ here…" he trailed off resentfully, dreamily.

Still alive? Naminé searched his face, wondering if he had just made a joke that had fallen flat or if he meant something more.

"What do you mean, 'still alive'?" she asked tentatively.

Vexen glanced at her. "Out of everything I just conveyed to you, that was the only thing you caught?" Vexen seemed offended. "Typical…" he mumbled, proceeding to sit down in a chair to her right and facing her.

He toyed with the instrument a few more times. Finally, he finished, and he caught Naminé's eyes. She returned his stare, feeling unnerved. "What exactly are we doing, again?" she choked out.

_In simple terms, this time? _She mentally added. He seemed to pick up on the meaning of her question.

"I suppose you have the right to know," Vexen sighed, and Naminé frowned. She heard him mutter something about it not mattering, she didn't have a say in the matter either way, before he continued. "This device will send 'special' electric pulses through your body and mind. If my theory is correct, the signals will trigger your power, and we can return you to the state you were in when you first arrived here today. That way, we can continue on with tests while you're tapped into your abilities."

His explanation came out in a rush, as if he were explaining something obvious.

Naminé narrowed her eyes. "Will it hurt?" she inquired with distrust.

Something flickered across his face, but he quickly masked it. "Only slightly," he answered.

He was lying. Naminé instinctually knew. She had barely placed her palm on the armrest to push herself out of the chair when a completely foreign and painful feeling shot through her body.

He had placed the device on her arm and it shocked her violently. She heard herself shriek, and her muscles clenched to the point of immobilization. She fell back into the chair, feeling paralyzed. The pain left as suddenly as it had come; however, the memory of the excruciating pain was hotly stamped into her mind, and therefore it lingered. It was an uncomfortable sensation.

"What…" Her words were slurred. She barely managed to turn her head to look at Vexen. "W-what…" She couldn't speak, she realized. She began to tremble. Out of fear or physical exertion, she wasn't sure.

Vexen looked detached. He didn't care about her pain. It was then she realized with a gut-wrenching feeling that Vexen didn't have certain emotions; she was stuck here, glued to this chair, with a psychopath next to her.

"It's most painful upon the first shock. Don't worry, only a few more…"

He placed the device over Naminé's heart and she swore she was going to die. She struggled to move, but her body wouldn't cooperate. She heard him press down on a button, and a feeling similar to the first shot through her body.

Yet this time, it left her unbelievably disoriented and dizzy. It took quite a while for her to remember where she was, who she was, and what she was doing in this place. When she finally pieced everything together, terror sunk its teeth into her heart again. What if he killed her – or worse, made her lose her memories?

She tried to speak. She couldn't. Her mind and body reeled and she felt as if she couldn't breathe. "Please," she finally managed to gasp. It was nearly inaudible. He either didn't hear it or ignored her.

"Hmm, we should be seeing signs soon…" he spoke to himself, moving the device over Naminé's chest.

Naminé heard the button click for the third time before everything went black.

**A/N: Oh damn. You guys are in for some _dramaaaaa_. ;) Or something like that. **

**I would like to point out that I am going to start switching things up a little bit in regards to the point of view. Instead of strictly telling this story from a third-person point of view with Naminé, I'm going to do add parts with 3rd person POV on Roxas's side as well. Which basically means that we'll get to know a little bit more about what he's thinking. Not too much, though. Mystery is sexy. Anyways, a review helped me think of doing that, so you have a fellow reader to thank for the idea!**

**Speaking of reviews… *nudge nudge***


	10. Shapes and Colors

"_The heart asks for pleasure first, _

_And then, excuse from pain;_

_And then, those little anodynes_

_That deaden suffering"_

—_Emily Dickinson_

– _**Chapter 10: Shapes and Colors – **_

Something pulled at Roxas's gut. And it wasn't anger, he realized—as pissed off as he was at Naminé, this feeling was something else; something he couldn't place a finger on.

He waited for it to leave him. When it didn't, he decided to go check on the infuriating girl. Maybe she would provide ample distraction from the feeling, and perhaps then it would stop knocking on the walls of his mind.

He made his way to the stairwell from his room, taking his time. He was in no _rush_ to see her, after all. And he'd be damned if anyone thought he was going soft, he thought with a grimace.

When he reached the lab, he pressed the annoying buzzer and waited, tapping his foot impatiently. When no one answered, he pressed it again. And again. And again and again and again and again and again.

After too long of a wait, the door cracked open. Vexen's head poked out, his eyes crazed and pupils small.

"Can I help you?" The words were rushed as Vexen took in Roxas's presence.

The blonde immediately knew something was off. Roxas eyed Vexen with distrust. "Um, yeah," he answered as if it were obvious. "I'm here to retrieve Naminé."

That hadn't originally been his intention, but something was wrong—the Chilly Academic was hiding something.

"We're in the middle of some procedures. You're going to have to wait," Vexen spat. There was a dip in his tone that unmasked his faux confidence.

He began to shut the door, but Roxas shot a steady hand out. "Not going to happen," he dismissed with irritation, shoving the door back. Vexen stumbled back, anger and panic overtaking his features. The man may have been older, but he definitely didn't have much strength.

Roxas strode in to the cold room; fury erupted in him at the sight that met his eyes.

"What the _hell_ did you do?" he nearly yelled, stopping abruptly.

Naminé lay on the table, unconscious. Her breathing patterns were unsteady, and her skin was unnaturally pale. He approached her, at a complete loss for action. His hands hovered above her body in indecision and shock before he settled on grasping her shoulders and shaking her. He pushed away the foreign and unexpected panic welling within him when she didn't even flinch.

Roxas heard Vexen rambling behind him. "Don't—don't worry, i-it's reversible," he stuttered. "I, I can wake her up. It's all part of the procedure," Vexen desperately explained, laughing nervously. He gestured wildly as he spoke, as if to put more conviction behind his words.

The only warning of the chaos that followed was Roxas briefly tensing his shoulders. Then, he whipped around and punched the other man in the face. A _crack_ echoed in the metallic and unwelcoming room.

Vexen stumbled back, clutching his now-bleeding nose. "Have you gone mad?" he cried hysterically and fearfully. "I—I said it's reversible!"

Roxas felt his blood boil. "What the hell did you even do in the first place?" Roxas demanded, blinded by anger. He strode towards Vexen, who stumbled backwards and knocked down equipment as he went.

Vexen waved his hands in front of him violently. "I can explain! C-calm down, Thirteen, or—or I'll tell our superior!"

Vexen's voice cracked and he fell backwards onto the floor. Roxas approached and towered over him, his aura dark.

Roxas's eyes narrowed. "You'll tell our superior?" He watched as droplets of blood dripped down Vexen's face and stained his clothing. "_I'll_ tell our superior," Roxas spat out. "You're not supposed to do shit like _this_." He gestured towards Naminé abruptly.

His anger subsiding slightly—as crazy as Vexen was, he _did _say the damage was reversible—Roxas took a deep and unsteady breath. "Fix this," he bit out, glaring down at Vexen.

A moment of stillness passed as Vexen stared at Roxas with wild eyes. That's what Vexen had been _trying to do_ – fix the situation before anyone noticed it. He hadn't intended for the girl to pass out on him… much less, _stay_ passed out.

"_Now_." Roxas's voice was dangerously low.

Vexen scrambled into standing position and scurried over to where the petite blond girl remained. He felt her pulse and chuckled nervously. Roxas's eyes burned into his back.

"W-well, at least she's still alive," Vexen stuttered in a shrill voice.

Tension followed.

"…Are you saying she's dying?" Roxas asked, shoving Vexen out of the way and feeling Naminé's pulse himself. It was unnaturally slow.

"N-no!" Vexen waved his hands in front of him again, trying to explain. "That's—I was just making a joke—"

Before he had the chance to finish, Roxas snapped and turned on Vexen again. Blinded by rage once more, he only processed the blows landing on Vexen's face.

"Does this look like a goddamn joke, Vexen?" Roxas yelled through the punches, anger vibrating through every inch of his body.

Suddenly, the door behind them flew open.

"_What is going on here_?" a deep voice boomed throughout the room.

Roxas froze and Vexen fell ungracefully onto the floor. His face was bruised and blood gushed from his nose.

Roxas saw Vexen clutch his nose and stare past him, his eyes widening more than Roxas thought humanly possible. Taking a breath, Roxas's gaze followed his.

Xemnas stood there with his arms crossed. His lips were pulled down and his expression was grave. Saix and Xigbar stood at his side, stoic and obedient as ever.

Roxas spoke without thinking. "This _idiot_ is fucking up again," Roxas blurted in disdain, pointing at the result of Vexen's mistake on the table: Naminé.

Roxas heard Vexen gasp; they weren't supposed to talk to the Leader in such a way. He couldn't bring himself to care at the moment and apparently Xemnas couldn't, either.

Xemnas locked eyes on Naminé's unmoving frame. He moved towards her.

"Vexen," Xemnas started slowly and seriously.

Roxas sensed Vexen tense in fear next to him. He rose as he was addressed by their leader, despite the state he was in. He shook with anxiety. "Y-yes, superior?"

"Leave. Now," Xemnas ordered.

Vexen seemed to be at a loss for what to do. His face dropped and he gestured with his hands. "B-but I can fix this! I—"

"Leave," Xemnas repeated with finality, not sparing a glance at the shaking man.

Vexen sputtered desperately for a moment more before his shoulders sagged in defeat. It was a sorry site; his face was damaged and his expression was distraught.

Once he left, Xemnas's eyes pierced into Roxas. "Thirteen, go retrieve Zexion."

With frustration, Roxas obeyed. He didn't want to leave Naminé in this state, with these people, but he realized two things: one, Xemnas wasn't punishing him for attacking Vexen. And two, Zexion was probably the only one who could fix this.

Wordlessly, Roxas opened up a portal and disappeared.

**xx**

_**Eleven years earlier.**_

Black suits. Black dresses, with feminine heads attached to them and weeping eyes on blank faces. The grass field stretched on endlessly, morbidly, with a tinge of life where it met the asphalt parking lot. They lived on an island, but six-year-old Naminé felt unbearably hot. She tugged at the collar of her dress uncomfortably.

"Keep up, Naminé," a firm voice next to her warned. Naminé's eyes moved to her hand, which clasped a slender, slightly wrinkly one, before her eyes trailed up the woman's arm to her face. Her aunt glanced down at her, her expression darkened by the delicate hat she wore. "Come on," she mumbled more gently, pulling softly.

Naminé's eyes fastened on her shiny black shoes. She watched her legs kick out in front of her. _Step, step, step, step. _Grass crunched below her feet, making her want to play outside, but she realized it wouldn't be appropriate. She finally allowed her mind to wander to the situation at hand.

Something was definitely wrong. The world seemed dead, different, but Naminé hadn't changed a bit; she recognized that everyone knew something she didn't. Not only that, but nobody would inform her. She had never experienced anything like it in her life. And just as they were afraid to tell her, she was afraid to ask.

The two approached a large group of people. The men and women stood around as if they didn't know what to do with themselves – some, though, embraced each other as if it was the last embrace they'd ever take part in. Naminé heard hushed voices and felt their sympathetic stares.

She and her aunt continued to make their way through the crowd towards a plastic-chaired seating arrangement. Her aunt occasionally stopped to talk with some people Naminé recognized as distant family members.

They thought Naminé didn't pick up what was being said.

"It'll be alright, Marie. It'll be alright." A woman squeezed her aunt's shoulder comfortingly, and Naminé watched her aunt's head go down. As short as she was at 6 years old, only she could see her aunt's face under her large hat as a dull tear was wiped away with a tissue.

"It's a miracle the girl is still alive," she heard someone mumble, and she looked up to see a man covering his mouth in secret as he spoke the words to a female counterpart. The woman listening was looking at Naminé as he spoke—where they talking about her?

They soon left these people and took seats in front of a big, shiny white box. Naminé finally gathered the courage to speak, only out of fear that if she didn't catch up now she would be forever left behind.

"Auntie?" Naminé probed gently. "What's in there?" She pointed to the big box.

Her aunt turned her head towards Naminé. Her expression held sorrow and pity. "Oh, Naminé," she sighed. "We've explained this to you several times."

Nobody, not once, had told her what was in the box—or that there would even be a box here. She was sure of it.

Naminé decided not to mention that, though. She'd never seen her aunt shed a tear, and would be on her best behavior. After a lot of thinking, she settled on the best way to ask again. "Well… I think I forgot what you said. What's in that box?" she asked childishly, gesturing towards the box again.

Her aunt stayed silent for a little bit. A dry wind struggled by. "It's called a casket, Naminé," she said seriously, quietly, seemingly consumed by pain. She came out of it quickly and cushioned her tone. "It's where someone's body goes when their soul goes to Heaven."

"A body is in there?" Naminé gasped and stood up urgently. "Can I see it?"

Her aunt blanched. "Naminé. Sit down and listen."

Naminé obliged, and her aunt seemed to be paying more attention to her now than she ever had in her whole life. She sensed something serious was coming – something life-altering. She gripped the edge of her seat in anticipation.

Her aunt angled her body towards the young girl. Every movement was soft and careful, and the woman drew Naminé's hands into her own. Their eyes held each other's.

"Naminé, you know how Grandpa told you that mommy went away? He told you that she's not coming back, ever, didn't he?" Her aunt used the most delicate voice she could possibly muster.

Naminé yanked her hands away violently. "He was joking!" she yelled harshly, glaring at her aunt. She knew he was joking. Her grandpa always told funny jokes.

Her aunt's face filled with more anguish, if that was possible. "Oh, Naminé…" she trailed off tenderly.

Naminé huffed and turned back towards the box, crossing her arms and pouting. She didn't turn to look at her aunt again for a long while. More people took their seats behind them—Naminé and her aunt sat in the front, right across from the white box.

Nothing had been the same. Not since her mother's car skidded off a bridge—with her in it. Or at least, that's what everyone told her; that she had been in the car and gone over the bridge with her mother. And then they would utter grateful and meaningless words like "miracle" and "such a sweet little girl" and "her mother died a brave woman."

None of it made sense to Naminé. Her memory of the incident was diminished; her brain refused to accept their words, her denial so severe that she didn't realize she was even _in _denial. Much less that the denial would linger for many, many years.

Cloud finally shuffled by and sat down next to her. His eyes were puffy and red. He was ten, but she rarely saw him cry either. For some reason, it angered her.

"Stop crying," she told him harshly.

He turned to her. "Why aren't you?" he pointed out accusingly.

"There's nothing to cry about. Stop being a baby."

Cloud seemed to snap. "_You're_ the one being a baby! Mom is dead, don't you get it?!" he yelled hysterically, and people around them stopped chattering for a second.

Her aunt quickly jumped in and eased the situation, murmuring soft words of comfort to the two of them. The surrounding groups of people went back to their conversations as more took seats behind them.

Dead? Dead… Nobody had used that word yet. And Cloud had said it with such conviction, such force…

Naminé froze. Realization dawned. Something inside her snapped, and her eyes widened into saucers. She stared at the box in horror, unable to move. She couldn't move for several minutes and shock overtook her body. She didn't know how much time passed.

"We are gathered here today…" a man she had never seen before in her life began. Naminé's lower lip wobbled.

She finally found it in her to move, turning to glance at Cloud. Her brother's head was buried in his hands. Her breath caught in her throat.

"…as you are all aware, to pay our last tributes and respects…"

Naminé turned her attention to her aunt. Tears freely ran down her soft face. Naminé's chest tightened.

"…to the memory of our departed friend and family member, Autumn Mizuki."

At the mention of her mother's name, a cry ripped from her throat. The man who had been speaking stopped in alarm. Naminé couldn't hear anything besides the wails that continued to escape her throat. She couldn't stop them, and felt everyone's eyes on her. She didn't care. She couldn't even think logically.

Her aunt hushed her and her brother watched her, stunned. The man who had been speaking at the podium tried to continue as if nothing was happening, but it was clear to him that all of the attention was on the delirious girl.

Naminé couldn't stand it anymore. She yanked away from her aunt's attempts to shush and embrace her, and shot up before bolting towards the parking lot. There was silence in the field again.

"Naminé!" her aunt's worried voice came from behind her. She kept running as fast as her legs would allow, sobs and physical exertion leaving her miserable and breathless.

Finally, she reached the parking lot. Once there, she didn't know what to do with herself. She felt spent. She collapsed into a sitting position in between two parked cars and hiccupped, tears drying on her face.

Footsteps approached her. Naminé curled into herself, hugging her knees. She wouldn't go back there—she wouldn't.

A hand was placed on her shoulder. She refused to look at the intruder. Her mom was gone. Now, she understood.

"Let's go home," her aunt's gentle voice said, squeezing her shoulder.

**xx**

Blind—she couldn't see.

Her eyelids twitched, but she couldn't open them. She felt like she was at the dentist, and the doctors were shining that bright, blinding light in her face to examine her teeth. She inhaled linoleum floor and dust, quite sure that she _was_ at the dentist.

"She's awakening," a foreign voice spoke, sounding distant and too-close at the same time.

Had they knocked her out with medicine to pull a tooth? Surely, she hadn't let her teeth get that bad…

She moaned groggily. Too many thoughts, too little… or too much time. She didn't know. She felt like she was floating, and her back tingled. When she stopped focusing on it, the sensation faded.

"Mom?" she mumbled, or thought she mumbled, when she heard a female voice.

"Tsch. What an idiot. You can take it from here, Zexion; I'm leaving," the female voice spoke again, but Naminé didn't process her words.

Mom. The word triggered a memory, or rather, a memory of a memory—she had dreamt of her mother's funeral while she'd slept. As she remembered the vivid dream—it had almost been like she was reliving the event—emptiness gripped Naminé's heart. The feelings of her dream followed her into the real world, and she was left dejected and alone in a dentist's office.

"Naminé, can you open your eyes?"

Maybe not alone. She scrunched her eyes before struggling to blink them open. The light was blinding. Even after physically prying apart her eyelids, the world remained blurry and discolored. Soon, everything became clear—_too _clear.

Maybe not at a dentist's office, either. She met eyes with Zexion, who stood over her form in the small bed. She realized she was in the room where Axel had taken her for her burn.

She didn't know what it was—maybe it was the feeling you get when you wake up and you're not in your own home, or maybe it was the fact that she was _here_ of all places, or maybe it was remnants of her memory-dream poking and prodding at her heart—but Naminé felt a gaping sadness in her chest.

"What happened?" she croaked, her voice quiet and raw.

"You can speak; that's good. Try not to do much, though—your senses are distorted right now," Zexion answered, his face calm as he watched Naminé. "Your eyes…" he trailed off. "Hm." He wrote something down oh his clipboard.

Naminé didn't inquire further—she was sick of her stupid eyes. She noticed with a quiet weariness that he hadn't answered her prior question. She went to sit up—and couldn't budge an inch.

"Zexion?" She panicked. "Why can't I move?" Her eyes darted around the room, as if she'd find an explanation on the walls.

Zexion appeared hesitant to respond, staring down at her. "Vexen performed… an experiment… on you. Can you recall?"

Upon hearing his words, Naminé flinched. Realization dawned on her features. Zexion looked sympathetic towards her plight and she was at a loss for words. The incident had been traumatizing—she sincerely thought she would meet with death. And the pain…

"You're recovery is remarkable, however. I did not expect you to awaken so soon," Zexion interrupted her thought process as he read the emotion on her face.

Naminé remained silent for a long while, and Zexion took a seat. "How long have I been out?" she asked quietly, her voice calm.

A few seconds of silence. "Two days," Zexion answered lowly and reluctantly.

If Naminé hadn't already expected it to be bad, she would have acted shocked; however, his answer was not too much of a surprise. She closed her eyes, suddenly feeling exhausted.

She was spent. At the moment in time, she wanted nothing more than to not exist; to sleep forever. Part of her, she realized, wished that she _hadn't_ woken up.

"… How long until I can move again?" she inquired softly, distracting herself.

"I'm not too certain. Like I said, you're recovery appears to be progressing quickly. It could range anywhere from an hour to a few days."

A few days? _Days?_

Her thoughts switched between racing and unbearably slow, before her mind switched off completely. After a moment of silence, though, a pin dropped within the quiet confines of her mind's blackness and triggered a million resentments.

Things like this weren't supposed to happen to teenage girls. Things like this weren't supposed to happen _at all_, and especially not to her. She had always done well in life and minded her own business—what did these people want with her? To destroy her? To zap her of all her resources and leave her a lifeless shell?

If that was their intention, they were succeeding. She felt a rage boil within her for a brief second before it faded and left a strange feeling in her stomach.

She simply did not have the energy to feel rage; and even if she felt anger, what could she do with it? There was no channel for it, and instead it lingered inside of her like poison. She was trapped. She knew this, but it mutated into a feeling in her gut that left her feeling painfully vacant. A cloud of depression seeped over her thoughts and she swallowed.

"Zexion," she started, clearing her throat lightly as her voice cracked. She didn't open her eyes. "If you could… could you leave me alone for a bit?"

Zexion didn't respond, but she heard the door close as he left her silently and respectfully.

One tear fell silently, and then two, indulging themselves in her hairline. She didn't want to exist at this point, but that didn't make her cry. Wondering how disappointed her parents would be in her if they knew of her current desire for non-existence… _that_ made her cry.

If she could get out of this place, she could be happy again. And normal—that was what she wanted more than anything. She promised herself that she _would_ get out of this place—whether it killed her in the process or not. Death was starting to seem like a better option than this hell, anyways. And she needed to try. She couldn't just_ not try_.

In the few hours that Naminé had to herself, she sorted out her thoughts, but it didn't improve her mood. She had quickly given up and settled on shutting off her mind completely, though sleep refused to embrace her—she instead stared at the ceiling with a forceful blankness, deliberately avoiding thoughts on the dream she'd had.

Naminé noticed that she had gained some mobility—she could now turn her head a move other limbs slightly. It was comforting to know that she wasn't permanently paralyzed.

When the door clicked and opened, Naminé didn't bother looking. She assumed it to be Zexion, and she was in no mood for politeness.

"You're still awake," Zexion observed, and she heard him shuffle around the small room. Her eyes remained on the ceiling. "How do you feel?"

Like someone has sucked my heart out with a vacuum, Naminé thought. "Fine," she responded distantly.

She saw Zexion nod out of the corner of her eye. "I'm going to text your reflexes to see how your central nervous system is recovering from the shock," he informed, and she heard him rustling around for some equipment. It reminded her of being in Vexen's lab, and she suddenly felt sick.

Zexion approached her, seeming as if he were going to start, before pausing. "Are you ready?"

She swallowed and nodded slightly.

"You look a little pale…" he pointed out, almost sounding unsure.

She shook her head, remaining quiet.

She heard Zexion let out a quiet sigh. "So I'm just going to be performing basic procedures, ones similar to a normal doctor check-up," he explained, and she felt a small amount of gratitude. Zexion never explained what he was doing, and she knew he was doing it for her sake.

He tested her reflexes, hitting the space below her kneecap with a rubber utensil. After a few more minutes of testing other places, he retreated.

"This is good, Naminé. Your recovery is actually quite remarkable; you should have full mobility back within 24 hours," he informed, flipping through papers on a clipboard and leaning against the counter.

She nodded in acknowledgement. Truthfully, she couldn't bring herself to care. Something terrible had happened, and just because the aftermath wasn't as terrible as expected, Zexion was treating the results like good news. She couldn't force herself into the same optimism.

A few hours later, Naminé fell into a deep yet unsatisfying sleep. Thankfully, it was dreamless.

When she woke up, it was morning of the next day—according to Zexion, since there were no windows in the room. Instinctually, Naminé sat up.

Zexion stared at her. "Remarkable."

"What?" she asked.

"Mobility—I didn't think it would return so fast," he explained.

"Oh yeah…" She had forgotten that she'd been paralyzed upon falling asleep. She stretched out her arm, testing her movements. Her muscles felt a little sore.

"I suppose that means you don't have to remain here any longer," he started, and her ears perked up. "We can send you back to your room."

She nodded apathetically. It wasn't much of an upgrade from the room she was in now…

"However, I will have to prescribe you medication. Although your ability to move has returned, internally, your body needs to heal," Zexion asserted.

Naminé frowned. "But I feel fine."

"Naminé, your eyes have been glowing since his experiment. That's a sign that something is wrong up here—" he tapped his temple "—and in here." He tapped over his heart. "And other places, for all we know. I want you to rest over the next few days and take the medication I give you. It will allow your body to function at the lowest energy level possible, in turn allowing you to heal more efficiently."

She agreed numbly, and within a couple of hours she was escorted back to her room. Once alone, she sat on her bed with a bottle of thick white pills. Zexion had told her to take one everyday at five p.m. The thought of downing the whole bottle and seeing what would happen to her crossed her mind, and she blanched, shifting quickly on the bed and laying on her back. The pills remained on the table next to her.

After an hour of staring at the ceiling, Naminé sat up and scanned the room for her sketchbook. She couldn't let herself sit there like a lifeless shell. Every second that ticked by felt like another year chipping off her life.

She settled into her bed, a blank page and pencil in front of her. She sighed and closed her eyes. What was she supposed to draw? She racked her mind, finding no creative energy.

She closed her eyes. _Just draw_, Naminé told herself.

Eyes peacefully shut, Naminé began to sketch. She felt her pencil weaving around the page, channeling whatever energy sitting within her. As she drew, unease grew within her. She was trying to draw the way she normally did—escaping fully into the picture—but something felt off.

Eyes still closed, her arm moved on its own accord. Her pencil began to make ragged, spastic lines, and nothing about the act was relieving.

As she was finishing up, she forced her eyes open. The led on her pencil broke with a _crack._ Her motions stopped.

Horrified, she looked on to a black creature on the paper, with yellow eyes and sharp white teeth, staring back at her. Demonic in every regard, the monster seemed eerily real on the paper.

Reflexively, she dropped her pencil and threw her sketchbook across the room. How had she drawn something so evil? It made her feel dark and evil inside, like something terrible was growing within her and taking over.

Anxiously, she reached over and grabbed the pills. It was ten p.m. now, anyways. She poured three into her hand and downed them, her arms shaking and her mind wired.

Then, she was back to square one, lying back in bed staring at the ceiling like a lifeless doll. However, at least this time the act—or lack thereof—was done with purpose. She waited for the pills to kick in, wondering what they would do to her. Quite frankly, she didn't care about what they would do, even if she had taken three.

After thirty minutes, she started to feel groggy and loopy and blissfully unaware. It was the best possible outcome. A knock sounded at her door and she didn't experience the normal pang of anxiety that accompanied the noise.

The doorknob turned and Roxas stepped in, his eyes scanning her.

There was a moment of silence before he spoke. "How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice emotionless despite the meaning of the question.

Noticing this, a giggle escaped her throat. Then, her hand shot over her mouth. The pills were having more of an effect on her than she intended. Roxas looked at her quizzically.

She cleared her throat and tried to act normal. "Um… Okay." She did feel good; in fact, it she felt so good it was hard to keep her eyes open. In an attempt to act normal, she asked, "How do you feel?"

And realized it was a completely non-normal question.

Roxas quirked his head at her, his eyes searching hers. He then caught sight of the sketchbook laying upside-down and half-open on the floor, and went to retrieve it. Naminé wanted to warn him not to look at it, but couldn't bring herself to care.

Once it was in his hands, Roxas peered down at it. Then, he looked back at Naminé. "Not the rainbows and butterflies I expected…" he trailed off, unaffected by the horrid drawing. He tossed it on the table.

Naminé let out a long sigh. "You're telling me…" she responded, becoming lost in her thoughts as she rested her cheek on her hand. She felt so relaxed. She could fall asleep sitting up if she wanted to…

"Naminé?"

She jolted, facing Roxas again. She blinked. "Hm?"

Roxas looked concerned and baffled, and then his eyes flickered to the nightstand next to her. He walked up and snatched up the bottle of pills, observing it.

"Did Zexion give this to you?" he asked, opening the bottle and looking at the pills.

Naminé nodded groggily, trying not to sway. "Yeah. Zexion is so nice, don't you think, Roxas?" She yawned, shifting in the bed.

"How many of these did you take?" he asked, eying her and shaking the bottle.

"Two—or three," she answered, waving it off with her hand. She felt so relaxed. For once, she was even unaffected by Roxas's intensity.

Roxas looked down at the bottle again. "Naminé, it says you're supposed to take one."

She shrugged like a child, almost unable to comprehend his seriousness.

Roxas let out a curt sigh. "I'll be back."

"Wait!" Naminé cried out when he turned. "Where… where are you going?"

"To ask Zexion if taking that many was fine," he answered distantly.

Naminé stood up and stumbled towards him. He caught her, surprise flashing across his features. She looked up at him.

"Can I go with you?" she asked innocently. For a split second, he looked torn, as if at a loss for how to handle the situation. "Please, Roxas?"

He shifted, guiding her back to sit on the bed. "Naminé, you need to rest. I'll be back in a minute."

Naminé's shoulders dropped, whether in disappointment or relaxation from the medicine, she didn't know. She watched, feeling loopy, as he disappeared through a portal.

Once alone, she fought the urge to fall asleep. Occasionally, her head would start falling forward, and she would jolt into awareness again. Within minutes and as promised, Roxas returned through an identical portal.

He took in her appearance. "Zexion said you should be fine, but not to do that again. He also said you're probably going to knock out any minute now…"

Naminé nodded slowly, her eyelids heavy. After a few seconds, Roxas turned, and she became alarmed again. "Wait!"

He turned and shot her a look. "What?" he asked, sounding annoyed.

"Will you stay with me?" she asked, feeling delirious and tired and childlike—and the idea of being left alone tore at her.

There was surprise and hesitation on his features, and emotion welled up in Naminé. Everything was spinning. Everything mattered, yet nothing mattered at all, and it all converged into one big blur that didn't make sense. She felt confused and tired, relaxed and blissful at the same time; a contradiction in itself. It left her wanting to smile and cry at the same time.

"I can't. I need to go back to my room," Roxas responded.

She deflated. "I'll—I'll come with you," she suggested, gazing up at him. He sighed and scratched the back of his neck.

"Please, Roxas."

That seemed to be the final straw. Roxas sighed heavily, is if losing an internal battle, and nodded. "Fine," he answered curtly.

Naminé beamed, feeling less tired and increasingly delirious, and walked towards him. He caught her arm before they left and her eyes flickered to his in confusion.

"You can't do this in the halls," he said firmly. His voice seemed to come from the end of a long tunnel, and she had to intensely focus to understand.

"Do what?" she asked, her head quirked.

Roxas ran a hand through his hair, as if he were stressed out. "You can't sway as you walk through the halls." She continued to stare at him questioningly, and he spelled it out. "You're swaying right now, Naminé," he deadpanned.

With great effort, she straightened and took on a serious face. "…Right—I won't." She nodded.

Roxas didn't look convinced, but nonetheless, he turned and opened the door, holding onto her arm as they walked down the hallway. Once at the end of the hall, he opened a door.

"Your room is—" Naminé started.

"Shh."

"Sorry."

Their words bounced down the hallway, and once inside, Roxas seemed to relax. Mindlessly, Naminé trotted up to his bed and flopped down on her stomach, splaying her arms over the blanket. She let out a blissful sigh and closed her eyes.

Roxas stood there, not knowing what to do with her or himself. It was clear that she was out of it—everything she was doing was nearly the opposite of what she would do under normal circumstances. The drugs were getting to her, and she'd probably be out in no time.

Naminé listened as he shuffled around the room and realized something. Her eyes opened. "Oh. Roxas, take the bed—this is your bed."

She rolled off the blanket into standing position, grabbing one of the two pillows on his bed and throwing it on the floor. Roxas watched as she sloppily put together a make-shift bed for herself on the floor.

And then, for reasons he couldn't understand to save his life, she lay down on the carpet _next_ to the bed she'd made.

For once, Roxas was at a loss for words. He shook himself from watching her and got into his bed, flicking off the table lamp and turning on his side away from her.

He heard a lot of shuffling. The noise would stop for ten seconds, and he'd think she was falling asleep finally; then, they'd start up again, as if she were trying to get comfortable but couldn't.

Minutes later, he watched her silhouette as she stood up and swayed her way to his door.

"What are you doing?" he asked, sitting up and throwing his feet over the side of the bed. He turned on the lamp.

She looked back like a child who had been caught doing something wrong. "I'm… I'm going to my room."

He couldn't tell if she was lying. He raised an eyebrow.

"You do realize that the ten pills you took are making you act retarded, right?" he asked, standing up and approaching her.

She put her arms behind her back and backed up against the door. "I took two…" She looked up, as if thinking. "Or three?" she spoke to herself, before pulling out a hand and counting on her fingers.

Roxas almost face-palmed himself. He imagined that if Naminé was really drunk, this is how she would act.

"Naminé," he interrupted her counting.

She looked up, pouting. "What?"

"What are you doing right now?"

She frowned and narrowed her eyes, before her face became blank. "Um…"

Roxas sighed. "Here. I'll walk you back to your room."

He lightly gripped her arm and went to open the door when she pulled away suddenly.

"My room?" she asked, staring at him as if he'd grown a second head.

He stared back. "You just said you wanted to go back to your room."

"No… I said that I wanted to go to _your_ room," she argued, despite her confusion. She paused and smiled as she heard herself speak. "Wait… Why would I want to go to your room?" she asked, as if realizing what she had said, laughing.

Roxas almost laughed and felt bad at the same time. Naminé's current state was amusing; but she probably wondered why she wanted to go to his room because under normal circumstances, she seemed to hate him. And then, he remembered that he didn't have emotions at all, and any flicker of feeling vanished completely.

"We're in my room, Naminé. Just lay down," he suggested, locking his door and returning to his own bed. It wasn't until he turned and lay down that he realized she had followed him to his bed.

She crawled in next to him and instinctually, he scooted over, leaning up on his elbows.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his eyebrows slightly scrunched as he watched her.

Naminé got under the covers and settled on her side, facing him. "I'm going to sleep," she mumbled.

She closed her eyes and Roxas remained on his elbows, watching her. Again, he was at a complete loss for action. He could fight off demons and powerful beings yet he couldn't handle a delirious teenage girl.

"Um…" he mumbled, scratching the back of his head.

Naminé mumbled something next to him, her eyes still closed.

"What?" he asked, confused.

"I said it's fine—you can sleep in my bed this one time," she murmured, and he barely caught the words, much less understood them.

It wasn't long before she was out cold, and Roxas lay there for a while. His mind was wired. He never let anyone sleep in his bed, with or without him. The thought nagged at his mind for a few hours. Why was he letting Naminé sleep in his bed? The act definitely didn't serve a purpose, and if anything, it was a hassle.

At that moment, he decided to wake her up and lead her back to her own room. It was the mature thing to do, and it would sure as hell make sleeping a lot easier.

But he couldn't bring herself to do it. As much as he willed himself to, he couldn't—it was his fault that she was even drugged out now in the first place. He shouldn't have left her at the labs… He'd been angry with her, and that's why he'd done it. He knew that if he'd supervised Vexen, none of this would have happened.

**xx**

Everything was floating in and out within the confines of her mind. It felt nice; her thoughts consisted of colors and shapes rather than sentences. She watched the shapes float by for a little longer before she saw a dark ceiling above her. She realized that her eyes had been closed before, and now they were open.

Her mind felt cloudy. When she tried to think too hard or plan her next move, she hit a mental wall. She liked it, though—she couldn't remember ever feeling so relaxed.

She turned on her side and hit something next to her. She looked up—Roxas stared back down at her.

She yawned and laughed at the same time. "Is this a dream?" Naminé heard herself mumble groggily. She didn't move from her spot next to Roxas; she was too tired.

She heard a quiet and pleasant-sounding laugh next to her. "Is that what you'd call this?" Roxas asked in an amused, smooth tone. She felt him shift next to her.

She looked up at him from under heavy eyelids. He was no longer reading whatever he had been reading; he was staring at her intently.

Naminé was almost positive this was a dream. She didn't remember how she ended up here and her senses felt wired and meshed together: nothing made sense. She couldn't think clearly. All she knew was that Roxas was _warm_ and she felt so cold. She snuggled closer to him.

Roxas stiffened. "Naminé?" he called out unsurely.

"Mmm?" was her response as peered up at him again. They were much closer this time, she dimly noticed.

Roxas just stared at her, leaning his head back and trying to create some distance. "Are you… feeling okay?"

Naminé nodded in exhaustion. She felt nearly delusional with weariness. She'd never felt so _tired_ in a dream before. She didn't know it was even possible to feel tired in dreams.

She leaned in closer to Roxas – their noses nearly touched.

Roxas felt her breath on his lips. "What are you doing?" he asked warily, tensing.

Naminé stared at him for a few more seconds.

"I remember you really well," she mumbled, her eyes half-closed. Her eyes searched his.

Roxas didn't know what to do with the girl. He cleared his throat. "What do you mean?"

"I remember you _really_ well. I even got that one speck in your eye in the right place…"

Roxas barely heard her; she was speaking quietly, her words slurred together. She slowly pointed at one of his eyes before gently tracing two fingertips down his face. His skin tingled at the contact.

He grabbed her wrist abruptly, halting her hand in its tracks, when he realized that her touch felt _good_. "What are you doing?" he asked more roughly than he intended to.

Naminé was completely unfazed. She didn't answer his question, instead lowering herself next to him and closing her eyes. She shifted closer to him.

"You're a jerk here, too," she mused quietly and slowly, her words mumbled into his shoulder as she lay on her side next to him.

"What the hell are you talking about?" he asked, peering down at her. It was then that he noticed that her chest now rose and fell steadily again: she was asleep.

Roxas took a few deep and unsteady breaths. He stared down at his hands. He was riled up, he realized. He rarely became riled up.

Roxas sunk hopelessly into the covers and pulled the blanket over his head, careful not to wake the now-sleeping girl next to him. He ran a hand through his hair and closed his eyes.

Sleep. He needed sleep.

With a frustrated huff, he realized that he couldn't tear his thoughts away from the blonde next to him after this latest encounter. He didn't know which was more startling: Naminé's sensual behavior, or the fact that he _liked_ her touch.

He closed his eyes – it was going to be a long night.

**A/N: Shit, guys. Sorry that I haven't updated in a while. Winter break was wild, and usually I write when I'm procrastinating studying, and over break I was pretty much drunk or working half the time—not studying (or trying to). This story was the last thing on my mind for a while. Then, when it was on my mind, I had no idea where to pick back up. **

**On a brighter note, this chapter really should have been uploaded as three. But because the guilt was eating at me, I uploaded this huge, gigantic one—it's 20 pages long in Microsoft Word and over 7,000 words. Monstrous. **

**Hehe. Well, as always, I apologize for any grammar/spelling mistakes. Editing is my least favorite part of all this, so I tend to skim when I go back to read what I wrote. **

**Anyways, until next time, which definitely **_**won't**_** take more than 2 months like last time… Thanks everyone for the support/reviews/follows/and favorites! It's nothing but encouraging! **

**-JustieC**


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